


Ain't Nothin' but a Hound Dog

by Diaryofanarcissisticgayman



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Assistance Dog, Astraphobia, Bressie Owns a Recording Studio, Depression, Did I Mention it's Angsty?, Disabled Character, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks again, Gender Fluid Character, Harry is a Sweetheart with a Past and an obsession with Elvis, Heavy Angst, Insanely Slow Burn, Louis is Literally the Narry Ship Captain, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Minor Character Death, Niall is the Grumpiest Person Alive, Poker, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthetist Liam, Simon Runs Charities, Slow Burn, Therapist Louis, This fic is just incredibly fucked up, Torture, You Have Been Warned, harry is 23, mostly - Freeform, niall is 25, really slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 244,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman/pseuds/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“First off, I’m not a volunteer. I’m a full-fledged, certified instructor for the charity.” Harry grins. “Went through a special course, took a certification exam, the whole ca-nine yards.”</p><p>He starts laughing at his own stupid joke, and Niall just groans and says, “You’re the fucking worst.”</p><p>“Maybe.” Harry giggles, giving a halfhearted shrug. “But I’m willing to go the extra mile for clients. This is a perfect example, actually. This isn’t a standard part of the training. This is all me. The other instructors don’t do all this.”</p><p>“Then why are you?” Niall asks, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Because I want to.” Harry hums.</p><p>“I just want it to be clear that I’m not asking for this.” Niall mutters.</p><p>“You don’t have to.” Harry chuckles. “It’s part of the ‘Harry experience’.”</p><p>“How the hell did I get stuck with someone crazier than I am for this process?” Niall sighs, looking down to Conan for the answer.</p><p>“Beginner’s luck.” Harry laughs, causing Niall to roll his eyes again. It’s hardly luck, if you ask him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The charities that I based this fic around are, to the best of my knowledge, not real. That said, they are based on real charities. If you want to check out the charities that they're based on, you can find them at:
> 
>  
> 
> [Dogs for Good](http://www.dogsforgood.org)
> 
>    
> [Blood:Water](http://www.bloodwater.org)
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Title from 'Hound Dog' by Elvis Presley.

It’s funny how things you once loved can turn into something that you resent. Niall used to love the English countryside. He’s been all over the world, seen so many breathtaking places, but the English countryside was always his favorite view. The rolling, green hills always felt like home to him, even though he’s never actually lived among them. They always used to bring a sense of peace that no coastal beaches or far-reaching mountain ranges or endless desserts or thick forests or untamed jungles could ever hope to compare with.

Yes, the English countryside always used to bring Niall to a state of tranquility. That was before he ever had to spend an hour and a half in a car with one Louis Tomlinson, listening to his inane blathering and trying to fight the urge to jerk the steering wheel and send them into a ditch, which only becomes more difficult to suppress with every passing minute.

He’s not making much progress with his anger issues.

Unfortunately, Louis Tomlinson insisted on being the one to drive Niall out to this particular appointment, despite the fact that Niall would have truly preferred for Bressie to be the one to do it. Louis absolutely refused to let it be anyone else, though, since he’s the one who’d gotten Niall into the program in the first place. And Niall is grateful for that, despite the fact that he’d fought against it tooth and nail for two months, but there’s only so much a person can take. Louis Tomlinson crossed that line exactly nine minutes into the ride, and Niall has almost dug out his palms from how hard he’s pressing his fingernails into them since then.

“How much longer?” Niall asks sharply, cutting into a story he’d been pointedly not listening to about Louis thinking he was stoned out of his mind in uni from a biscuit that he’d been told was laced with marijuana, only to later find out it was just a normal biscuit. Something about a psych experiment investigating the placebo effect. Why the hell he pays this guy money to put his mind back together is becoming less clear by the minute.

“Let me check.” Louis huffs, pressing a button on his sat-nav to have the voice of Darth Vader tell them that it’s five minutes to their destination. They’d bickered for a full ten minutes on the side of the road because Niall just wanted to use the regular sat-nav lady voice, but Louis wanted to use the extra voice packages that he’d ‘spent twenty bloody quid on’, and Niall had managed to bargain him down from Yoda. This is marginally less annoying. “Five minutes.”

“Yeah, I got that, thanks.” Niall mutters, adjusting in his seat and rubbing his hand over the seam hidden under his trousers. He shouldn’t have worn jeans today. They’re too tight, making an already uncomfortable feeling that much worse.

“Is it bothering you?” Louis asks, his eyes flicking away from the road to look concernedly at Niall’s leg.

“Just gets uncomfortable when I’m sitting around for too long.” Niall admits with a sigh. This is an even less pleasant discussion than the fake-pot biscuit story, but Niall knows that Louis wouldn’t leave it alone until he got a straight answer. He’s persistent like that.

“You didn’t have to wear it for the ride.” Louis points out.

“Didn’t want to go through the trouble of putting my damn leg back on when we finally get there.” Niall mumbles, closing his eyes and rubbing at the sore muscle of his thigh. “This one can get a bit hard to get into my trousers. Have to take the foot off, or else it always gets stuck. Plus, I don’t need everybody seeing me in my pants while I put it back on.”

It’s his spare, because his main prosthetic – the fancy robotic one that had taken almost all of his money, but was totally worth it since it allowed him to at least walk like a normal person – had started making strange noises. He shouldn’t have been so stubborn about it, refusing to talk with his prosthetist about the thing until only a few days ago. But he was, and now he’s going to be stuck with what basically amount to a stick with a foot on the end of it until he can get the main one fixed and driven out to him. He’ll probably end up relying on his chair a lot in the next few days, but he’s going to fight that as much as he can.

“Did you wear something embarrassing?” Louis snorts. “Batman y-fronts or something? Knickers?”

“You caught me.” Niall says dryly, continuing kneading at his leg so that he can’t use his hand to strangle Louis instead.

“I’m sure they’re lovely.” Louis chuckles, unfazed by Niall’s attitude. He always is. No matter how much Niall hisses and spits and rages, Louis is always calm and patient. That’s probably why the hell Niall is paying this guy to put his mind back together. Nobody else would put up with him. Their therapeutic relationship is based on their mutual unpalatability.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Niall says with a roll of his eyes, despite still having them closed. He’s pretty sure that Louis notices anyways, because there’s a sharp flick to his earlobe that makes him glare at the other man and hiss out, “Oi! That bloody hurt, you fucking wanker!”

“Don’t hit on your therapist, Niall. It’s tacky.” Louis hums, returning his hand to the steering wheel. “I told you in our first session not to fall in love with me.”

“And I told you that it wouldn’t happen in a million years, even if you didn’t look like a fucking hedgehog.” Niall grumbles, rubbing at his ear. Louis reaches over to flick at him again, but Niall slaps his hand away and raises his fist as a threat while growling, “I may only have one leg, but that’s all I need to kick your arse.”

“Remind me to prescribe you some fucking Xanax when you get back.” Louis huffs. “Or to just like- Get you fucking stoned off your arse. Something to chill you out.”

“I’m really going to need to see your fucking medical license one of these days.” Niall mutters, turning his attention back out the window to look at the village they’ve entered. “I’m pretty sure you’re a fraud.”

“A fraud wouldn’t have been able to jump you through the waiting list of this program.” Louis says with a proud smirk that Niall doesn’t have to see to know is there. Louis has one on near-constantly, and Niall has become able to hear it in his voice.

“You were ‘able to jump me up through the waiting list of this program’ because you blew one of the guys who runs it back in uni.” Niall reminds him, because Louis had told him about it at some point during this road trip from Hell. “And now you’re blackmailing him by threatening to tell his wife so that he’ll put me in.”

“Shush, Horan.” Louis laughs. “The details aren’t important. What’s important is that we’re here, and that that’s thanks to me.”

He says that part proudly too, as if Niall hadn’t spent the entire ride wishing that it would end prematurely in a fiery crash just to shut Louis the hell up. And Niall, above most people you could meet on the street, has spent an inordinate amount of time picturing his own demise, but this is probably the most he’s ever pictured it in a span of ninety minutes, so that’s saying something. Unfortunately he can’t tell Louis that, because, despite his general weirdness, the man actually is his therapist, and they generally frown on Niall mentioning his multitude of thoughts about his own tragic end. He’d learned that with the last three.

It’s been a long year and a half.

So, instead of responding, Niall just grunts and looks around as they pull into the car park of the facility. It looks a bit like the retirement village where Bobby had sent Niall’s grandfather a few years before he died. There’s a small, plain looking block of flats. One floor only, of course. Most of the facility is taken up by wide fenced in areas, and a large community center on the opposite side of those from the flats that the residents are going to be staying in.

It doesn’t look like anywhere particularly life-changing. In all honesty, it doesn’t even look particularly special at all. The only remarkable thing about it, as far as Niall can see, is the pack of dogs running around after some lanky bloke in one of the fenced areas.

At least it doesn’t smell horribly of dog shit, like Niall thought that it would.

Niall pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and sighs out, “Thank God you managed to do that much.”

“If you keep being cheeky, I’m going to turn around and drive you all the way back, while telling you the story of how I let my athlete’s foot go for a month to win a bet.” Louis says with a wicked grin.

“Ugh, haven’t I suffered enough?” Niall groans.

“Depends on how mouthy you keep being, I suppose.” Louis says with a shrug as he parks the car. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know. This whole thing has got to be disorienting now that you’re finally settling into a routine. I know you’ve already said no, but-”

“No.” Niall tells him again, stopping the suggestion before it can even come out of his mouth. “You have other patients, Louis. You can’t spend a week here with me when you have them to think about. Besides, I’m already trying not to punch you in the face after less than an hour in the car. You try to sleep in a bed with me, and you’re not waking up the next morning.”

“I’m very used to sleeping on couches.” Louis grins. “Or even the floor.”

“That’s not surprising in the slightest.” Niall mutters under his breath, opening up the door and starting the process of getting out of the car.

With his usual leg, this isn’t such a problem, because it has a functional knee and ankle, which means that it bends like a normal leg. This one doesn’t bend. No, this one requires Niall to open up the door and either maneuver his leg out, or to grip the top of the car and lift himself up and out backwards. Louis drives a shitty little compact, so the first method isn’t really an option unless Niall wants to spend five minutes doing it like he had when he got in. He absolutely does not want to do that.

Unfortunately, he’s too focused on trying to twist and pivot and lift to pay attention to Louis, which is easily one of his top ten worst decisions in the last month. You should never, ever take your eyes off of Louis Tomlinson. He feels a pair of hands grip under his armpits and pull, which in turn causes Niall’s heart to stop for just a moment.

He feels the world slip away from him and rearrange itself into a dark room. Louis slender fingers are replaced with rougher ones that lift him with no amount of kindness.

_Dirt crunches under the heels of the man dragging him out from the pitch black room into the hall with that flickering bulb, removing him from the air that’s gone putrid with the stink of piss and shit. A door is thrown open, creaks loud and long on rusted hinges before Niall is pulled into the sunlight, long since having learned to stop fighting back._

And then, as quickly as Niall went under, he’s back. He’s got the smell of freshly mowed grass filling up his nostrils and Louis’ hand cupping his cheek.

“Did you go under?” Louis asks when Niall blinks at him slowly.

“Yeah.” Niall croaks out in admittance. “Don’t– Don’t do that. Don’t grab me without telling me you’re doing it.”

“I’m sorry.” Louis says quietly. “I didn’t know that was a trigger for you. It won’t happen again.”

To be fair to Louis, Niall didn’t know it was a trigger either. But it’s just one more entry on a very long list of reasons that Niall is quite possibly the most fucked up person on Earth.

“Did I hit you?” Niall asks. He doubts that he did, since the memory wasn’t a violent one, but he doesn’t have control over himself when he slips into an episode.

“No.” Louis tells him, shaking his head. “You went completely limp, which was worrisome in its own way. What happened in the memory?”

“It was the day I was released.” Niall mutters.

“Rescued.” Louis corrects him. “You were rescued, Niall, not released. Now tell me what happened.”

“It was just when I was being taken out of the room.” Niall sighs, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “It didn’t even last long. Just a couple of seconds. I was just being dragged out of the room. That’s it.”

“You didn’t take your medication this morning, did you?” Louis asks, his voice going down a bit the way it always does when he’s disappointed. Niall’s gotten quite used to being able to tell the difference in tones of voice, considering the amount of time he spent not being able to understand a word that almost anyone ever said to him,

“No.” Niall huffs. “They can make me loopy, and I can’t be loopy for this.”

“You also can’t afford to be triggered during this, Niall.” Louis points out. “Trust is a very important part of this process, and you can’t let yourself get triggered while that trust is forming. That’ll permanently scar the relationship. If you aren’t going to comply with my treatment plan, I don’t know if you’re ready for this.”

“I’ve been doing everything else.” Niall argues. “I do the bloody yoga, and the meditation, and the stupid journaling. I take my meds most of the time. I’m complying, Louis.”

“I’m worried about you, Niall.” Louis whispers. “This is a big step, and once you take it, you’re going to have certain responsibilities. You can’t just decide that you don’t want to do it one day, and ignore it. If I’m going to sign off on this, I need to know that you’re in the proper headspace for it.”

“You’re the one that badgered me into this.” Niall sighs. “I didn’t even want to do it. Now I’ve finally agreed that it’s a good idea, and you want me to stop once we’re actually here?”

“I want to know that you can handle all of this.” Louis says firmly. “I want to know that you’ve come to terms with the fact that there’ll be things that you don’t want to do, but that you have to do them anyways.”

“I have.” Niall nods. “I know it’s not going to be all shits and giggles. I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t think I was ready. I’ll take all of my meds again starting tomorrow, alright? I don’t want to throw off my times.”

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want me to stay here with you for this?” Louis asks seriously. “I’ve got people lined up that are ready to take my other patients for the week if you want me to stick around. I can sleep on the couch. It’s not a problem, Niall. I can be here if you need me here.”

“I’ll be fine.” Niall says quietly.

He’s not sure if it’s the truth, but he just can’t let himself be a burden on anyone else. He’s done enough of that for a lifetime. He’s finally starting to be able to stand on his own two feet again – Metaphorically speaking, that is, since he only has the one real foot – And he’s not going to keep letting himself drag everyone around him down. That’s why he’s here.

“Let’s get you inside.” Louis mutters, that drop in tone coming back again. “Do you mind playing luggage cart?”

“Load me up.” Niall snorts, leaning back in the chair and taking his arms out of his lap to free up space. He’s just glad to be done with the conversation, so he doesn’t complain when Louis starts heaping his own bags into his lap. “See? I can be useful.”

“Cheeky.” Louis chuckles as he begins wheeling Niall towards the entrance of the facility.

Niall had been expecting a flurry of activity, but there are only a few other people in the room when they get there. It makes sense though, once Niall really thinks about it. Smaller groups would definitely make this process easier on everyone, particularly the charity.

Louis takes care of most of the forms for Niall as they sign in, only asking for his attention when it comes to signatures. That leaves Niall free to look about the room and roll his eyes at the motivational posters put up all over the walls. They’re all ridiculous, childish things that are supposed to be upbeat and positive, but only come across as condescending. It’s like they’re mocking Niall for not being happy enough.

Then his eyes land on one picturing a bunch of dogs off to the side, half hidden behind a plant, and he wheels over to read it. Someone has placed tape over whatever the poster originally said, and, in loopy handwriting, replaced the caption with ‘Dogs are better than people’.

Niall can agree with that, and cracks a smile for the first time all morning. Louis mindlessly followed him over, and Niall points it out to him, only to receive an eye roll in response.

“I need you to take a look over these to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong.” Louis says, passing Niall the clipboard before he takes the bags over to the bloke who’ll deliver them to the flat Niall is staying in for the week.

Niall isn’t exactly thrilled about having some stranger take his things away, but he just focuses on the poster once he scans over what Louis had written, and crosses off the word ‘pussy’ in the ‘dietary restrictions’ section. Louis is such a wanker.

“Do you like it?” someone asks, startling Niall out of his head.

“Christ!” Niall yelps, clutching at his chest while he turns to find the source of the noise.

“Oh god! I’m sorry!” the guy rushes out. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“Then you could try not sneaking up on me.” Niall mutters.

“I just– I saw you looking at the poster, and I wanted to know if you liked the edited caption.” the guy mumbles, bringing a bright tint of pinks to his cheeks.

The first thing that Niall notices is that they’re around the same age, but the guy is maybe a bit younger than Niall is. A year or two, probably. He’s got long brown hair, slightly feminine facial features, gangly limbs attached to a skinny body clad in too-tight jeans and a ratty t-shirt with the charity’s logo on it. He looks exactly like the kind of granola-crunching gen-Y hippies that Niall has spent most of his life around. One would think that would put Niall at ease, but it doesn’t. It immediately brings a grimace to his face, actually.

“You smell like wet dog.” is what comes out of Niall’s mouth, in lieu of an actual answer to the bloke’s question.

Most people would be offended, but this guy just cracks a smile and then laughs loudly, unabashedly, with his head thrown back to expose his incredibly long throat. It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but the guy either doesn’t get that, or just doesn’t care, because he proceeds to laugh like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard until he’s wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I suppose that I probably do.” he giggles, his wide mouth stretched in an even wider smile than before. “A lot of us do around here though, to be fair. It comes with the territory. Literally. You get used to it.”

“Hopefully.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “And, to answer your question, yeah. I like the edited caption. It’s better than the rest of the shite hanging up in here, because it’s actually true.”

“I don’t know.” the guy hums, glancing around. “What about that one? ‘A consistent, positive mental attitude is a force that enables the beholder to overcome even the deepest of hindrances.’ I think it has a point.”

“A ‘consistent, positive mental attitude’ isn’t going to grow my leg back.” Niall says flatly. “Some people can’t do everything, no matter their attitude.”

“Someone’s turning into a negative Nancy today.” says a familiar voice, accompanied by Louis ruffling through Niall’s fringe and further deepening his scowl. “Let’s get you situated, yeah? We’ve got to get you into your first seminar.”

“Then let’s get going.” Niall mutters, turning his chair and wheeling towards the door that Louis points towards without a second glance back at the hippie bloke. His cheeriness rubs Niall the wrong way, and he wants to get as far away as possible before the guy can point out any more inane posters that remind Niall just how fucking limited his life really is now.

 

The introductory seminar is basically just an in-depth reading of the brochure for the program, which they somehow manage to stretch into over an hour. Louis swats Niall’s hand when he tries to play poker on his mobile rather than pay attention. Niall smacks him in the back of the head as retaliation.

That leads to a mutual understanding that Niall will do whatever he fucking wants to do while the lad from the lobby stands in the front and goes on and on about what the charity’s mission is. He already knows the bloody mission. It’s why he’s here. He doesn’t need to know when it was founded, or by whom, or how many people they’ve managed to help so far.

He says it’s boring, and that’s enough. They don’t need to talk about what’s really bothering Niall, because they both already know, and it isn’t going to change anything. It doesn’t need to be said out loud to know that Niall would rather be anywhere than in this room at the moment, because it reminds him of who he used to be, and who he isn’t anymore. Louis doesn’t need to hear that Niall resents the bloke at the front for being a chipper, bright-eyed idealist, proud of his work because he’s making a difference in people’s lives, because he already knows that that was Niall just a little while ago. It doesn’t need to be mentioned that you could replace that lad in front with Niall from two years ago, and barely be able to tell a difference, except for looks.

So Niall dicks about on his mobile until the seminar ends, and Louis sighs at him a lot and shakes his head.

“You missed the whole question and answer portion.” Louis mumbles when he wheels Niall out of the room to head towards the small canteen where he’ll be taking his meals for the next week.

“And I’m sure that you would have made me pay attention if anything important came up.” Niall returns, groaning in frustration as Bressie beats his three of a kind with a full house. He closes the app and shoves it in his pocket, muttering curses at his boss since he knows he can’t be heard doing it. Bressie’s shit at poker in person, but Niall can’t read his face right now, and he’s a sore loser.

It’s not hard finding a table, since there are only four other sets of people here for the program, and no group is bigger than three. Louis parks Niall at a table and then goes about retrieving lunch for the both of them. Normally Niall wouldn’t let himself stay in the chair like this when he’s got his prosthetic on, but he knows that Louis is sincerely nervous about this whole thing, and letting him take care of Niall for a little bit will make things easier.

Despite their tumultuous relationship, Louis is pretty much the closest thing that Niall has to a friend, besides Bressie. It’s not a conventional therapist-patient relationship, but it’s the only one that’s worked for Niall since he got back. Louis treats Niall like a normal person, even though he knows all the fucked-up shite going on in Niall’s head, and Niall lets Louis get away with murder in kind. And, by murder, he means babying, because there’s nothing in the world that Niall hates more than people trying to take care of him.

“Cheese and tomato alright?” Louis asks, even though he knows full well that it is, since that’s what Niall eats for lunch nearly every day now. “I’ve got egg salad, but I can trade if you want.”

“This is fine.” Niall tells him, taking his sandwich and staring down at the table when he asks, “You get any-”

“Ready-salted is all they had.” Louis says, sliding him a packet of crisps.

“Works for me.” Niall grins, tearing open the bag and then opening up his sandwich to begin layering the crisps on it so that they cover the entire sandwich.

“I will never understand why you do that.” Louis snorts.

“It’s how my da ate them.” Niall says with a shrug as he places the top piece of bread back on and crushes it all down to a proper size. “Besides-”

“This way you get it all in one bite.” someone finishes for Niall, making him flinch at the slow voice that he immediately recognizes, much to his discontent.

The hippie from earlier slides into the open seat across from Niall, next to Louis, and grins widely as he begins repeating the process that Niall just finished.

“Oh god, there are two of you.” Louis scoffs, shooting Niall a look. “If the good lord wanted there to be crisps on a sandwich, he’d make them that way.”

“That– That makes no sense!” Niall sputters. “You’re so bloody daft sometimes, I swear!”

“I have my opinions, and I’m sticking to them.” Louis hums, shoving a few crisps in his mouth before pointedly following it with a bite of his sandwich. He stares at Niall the whole time, eyes daring him to crack a grin, but the stranger’s presence ensures that Niall doesn’t.

Not that the stranger seems to get that, because he just giggles and says, “The good lord didn’t make this sandwich, I did.”

“If the good lord wanted there to be crisps on a sandwich, he’d make them that way!” Louis says even more loudly than before, uncaring about the crumbs that fly out of his mouth from his half-finished bite of food.

“You are the actual worst.” Niall grumbles, focusing on his own food and avoiding the conversation that the other two strike up like it’s going to give him the plague.

Bressie isn’t online anymore when Niall opens up the poker game again, so Niall sends a string of messages to Liam, pestering him relentlessly until the other man finally starts paying attention to him. Liam doesn’t like poker, though, so Niall has to agree to play some Scrabble knockoff game, during which he has to wait for two minutes every time it’s Liam’s turn, just for Liam to end up putting some three letter word that leaves Niall almost nothing to work with. Niall swears it’s actually some kind of strategy, because Liam has a bloody master’s degree. He’s not stupid.

He ignores the other two for as long as he can, well past finishing his meal, until Louis’ voice asks, “That sounds good, doesn’t it, Niall?”

“Who what now?” Niall questions. He looks up from his mobile and finds both of the other two staring at him, Louis with a concerned frown, and the other guy with a slight smile playing on his lips. He gets the strong feeling that he’s missed something incredibly important.

“Harry says that it’s about time for you to meet Conan.” Louis sighs.

“Who are Harry and Conan?” Niall asks.

“Conan is the assistance dog that’s been partnered up with you.” the other bloke– Harry– explains. “I’m Harry, and I’ll be your personal instructor while you’re here at All Dogs go to Heaven.”

Well, fuck.

 

As it turns out, Conan is far preferable to Harry. It’s love at first sight for Niall, an immediate swell of affection rising in his gut when he lays eyes on the chocolate lab that Harry leads out of the kennel building. He’s just beautiful, his dark brown fur complimented by green eyes and a coincidentally matching jacket to show his position as an assistance dog.

He stops short from Niall, looking up to Harry, who then nods. Conan approaches Niall slowly, and Niall holds out his hand, palm up, to let the dog sniff at him, as Harry instructs. He giggles when Conan sniffles at his fingers, and it’s the first time in a long time that Niall can remember genuinely laughing.

“Hi there.” Niall coos. “You’re just a gorgeous lad, aren’t you?”

“Holy shite, you can actually smile.” Louis snorts.

“I’m going to teach him to bite your bollocks if you don’t shut up.” Niall huffs, glaring at his friend before turning back to Conan and murmuring, “You’ll do that for me, won’t you, pretty boy?”

“I’m afraid he’s a bit too sweet to be taught anything like that.” Harry chuckles. “But he will fetch you socks if you ask.”

“Well, I’ll definitely not have you go after Louis’ socks.” Niall hums, running his fingers through the fur on Conan’s neck. “They smell worse than bollocks. Got properly ripe feet, he does. Terrible hygiene.”

“Keep testing my patience.” Louis grumbles.

“I plan on it.” Niall answers him with a smirk without turning his eyes away from Conan. “It’s one of the few things I’m good for anymore.”

“Shut up.” Louis laughs at the same time Harry softly says, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

Niall says nothing in response to either of them, barely even managing to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he continues to focus on Conan, soaking up the attention that he’s getting from the lab. Conan settles his chin on Niall’s good knee, nuzzling into his hand for more affection, and Niall almost swoons.

“Wow– This is– It’s impressive.” Harry says, crouching down beside Conan and scratching behind his ear.

“If you think that me sitting around doing nothing is impressive, then you’re in for an exciting week.” Niall mutters under his breath. He knows Harry hears it, given the way his smile falls for a fraction of a second.

But then it’s back in full force, and Harry’s giggling out, “I meant that he likes you.”

“That’s the goal.” Niall says dryly. “Otherwise we have to start this whole process over, yeah?”

“No, you don’t get it.” Harry hums. “Like– Conan gets along with everyone, yeah? He’s a big hunk o’ love. It’s a whole thing about assistance dogs. They’re friendly as all get out. But Conan rarely actually _likes_ anyone too much. He just kind of– Tolerates them, I guess.”

“Oh, you are definitely my kind of dog.” Niall laughs down to his new, furry mate.

“How do you know that he likes Nialler, though?” Louis questions.

“Well, he’s never mean.” Harry starts. “But with a lot of people, he’ll just sit there and wait for them to be done with whatever they want of him. He never cuddles anyone that he doesn’t really, really like. That thing he’s doing where he’s asking for more petting? Dead giveaway. There’s only like- Three or four other people that he’s that comfortable with, and I’ve never seen him take to anyone so fast. That’s saying something. I think we made a very good match on this end, so we’ll just have to see how this goes.”

“So-” Louis says after a minute wherein Niall focuses every bit of his attention on Conan, and Harry finally falls silent. It was too good to last, of course. “Where exactly do we start the instruction? Hygiene? Feeding habits? Special skills?”

“It depends on the instructor what the first focus is.” Harry answers. “Everyone does things a bit differently for the first few days, based on what fits the dog and partner best. Some focus on finding what the routine will be once people get home. Some focus on figuring out the specifics of what each partnership will need to be.”

“And what do you do?” Louis asks.

“I prefer to spend the first day letting our partners get acquainted with one another and start to form a bond.” Harry beams. “No work. Just hanging out.”

Maybe Harry isn’t actually that bad after all.

“We’ll start the training bright and early tomorrow morning.” Harry adds with a grin.

Never mind.

 

“You look knackered.” Louis hums, running his fingers through Niall’s hair.

“I am.” Niall chuckles, tilting his head back and looking up at Louis. He’s on the floor with Conan sleeping in his lap, back pressed against the couch just to keep himself upright. “Even my physio didn’t take this much out of me. He’s got a lot of energy.”

“You know– I haven’t seen you scowl in a couple hours now.” Louis mumbles. “I barely recognize you like this.”

“Don’t you need to be getting home?” Niall points out, rolling his eyes. “It’s a decently long drive, and it’s getting late.”

“You’re just trying to get me out of here so you can have some alone time with the hot instructor.” Louis smirks.

“As if.” Niall scoffs, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “He’s the reason I’m actually considering going back on telling you to leave. I don’t think I can handle a week of dealing with him alone.”

“He’s nice.” Louis says with his own eye roll. “Definitely not my type, but he’s nice.”

“He’s annoying.” Niall mutters. “Really, really annoying. Literally every time he opens his mouth, I want to put my fist in it.”

“Can I even trust you to stay here alone?” Louis sighs. “Or are you going to go doing something stupid like punching Harry?”

“I won’t risk losing this guy right here just to satisfy my anger issues.” Niall says, looking back down at Conan, who snuffles in his sleep and nuzzles into Niall’s hand. “The perky, annoying arsehole in the other room is safe. Besides– He can probably outrun me if I actually lose it.”

“You can call me if you need me, alright?” Louis tells him gently. “I’ll be here within the hour if you call. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

“If I tell you I’ll call you, will you go already?” Niall asks, suppressing any urge he has to let himself be coddled.

The truth is, he does want Louis to stay. He doesn’t want to be alone with Harry’s relentless cheeriness. He doesn’t want to be left alone when the chances of him screwing things up is so incredibly high if he’s left to his own devices. He doesn’t want to let go of one of the only people who has his best interests at heart when he’s not even sure that he does for himself. He’s telling himself that he’ll be fine, repeating it as a mantra until he can fool himself into believing it.

“I’ll be back in three days for a check-in, alright?” Louis says gently.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” Niall decides, nudging Conan until the lab peeks one eye open. “Wanna go outside, buddy?”

Apparently that’s all it takes, because Conan is on his feet without a moment’s hesitation. He stands in front of Niall, leaning down just a bit like he’s been taught in order to help someone like Niall up. So Niall plants one hand on the couch, and uses the other to grab onto the handle on Conan’s vest. He’d been worried about putting too much strain on Conan, but Harry insisted that he’s more than strong enough to help Niall up. It’s a part of his job as Niall’s assistance dog partner, and he’s been trained with people larger than Niall.

The leverage that Conan provides lets Niall get up to his feet, even without having a knee joint in this prosthetic, far easier than he usually would. It’s been a challenge all day to work with this leg, but Conan has been right at Niall’s side whenever he needs him from the moment that they met.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go see Louis off, yeah?” Niall grins down at Conan, rubbing his hand on the lab’s head in thanks.

Conan chuffs as if he’s agreeing, and heads off towards the door.

“It’s good to see how well you’re taking to this.” Louis says as they walk down the path. “I was hopeful, but I have to admit that I had my doubts as to how well this would go. You can be– Combative.”

“Obviously you underestimate how much I love dogs.” Niall snorts.

“And yet you fought me on this idea for months.” Louis points out.

“I wasn’t ready.” Niall sighs. “You know what I was like then. I know I’m not great now, but I wasn’t someone that innocent souls like these dogs should have been exposed to then.”

“You’ve come a long way in the months that we’ve been working together, Niall.” Louis murmurs, throwing an arm over the blond’s shoulders. “You just have the same problem that every other person who’s ever gone into therapy has had.”

“What, that I’m a fucking nutter?” Niall mutters.

“No.” Louis hums, stopping in front of his car and turning Niall so that they’re face to face. “You want to get better so badly that you can’t see the progress that you’re making as progress. You think that, because you aren’t where you were mentally before your trauma, you aren’t better. But you are, Niall. The hardest thing that every patient I’ve ever had needs to realize is actually quite simple- You’re never going to be the same person you were before.

“What happened changed you, changed the way that you see and interact with the world. That means that the goal you have in your mind– This idealized, perfect version of yourself that you want to be– That isn’t what you should be striving for. Nobody is perfect. We all have our flaws and our secrets and our pain. Therapy isn’t about making those go away. It’s about learning to live with who you are, and finding the happiness in that.

“And I know all of this is probably going in one ear and out the other, because you’re stubborn and angry and you aren’t ready to get to that place yet. I had to say it anyways, though, because I want you to know that I’m proud of you, and I see you getting better, even if you don’t. I believe in you, Niall, and I’m going to help you, no matter how much you fight me on it. I’m here for you, so call me if you need me. Don’t hesitate because you don’t think it’s the right thing.”

“I already told you that I’d call if I needed to.” Niall huffs.

“Just saying it again for good measure.” Louis hums, using the hand he has on Niall’s shoulder to haul the blond in for a hug. Of course, Niall doesn’t hug him back, remaining stiff in his therapist’s arms and grumbling curses until Louis relents and lets him go. “See you in three days.”

“Say goodbye to Lou, buddy.” Niall says, looking down to Conan, who’s been very well behaved throughout the exchange. “Now we can get some peace and quiet.”

“Complete arse you are.” Louis snorts, unlocking his door and climbing in. “Have fun with the hottie you’ll be working with for the week. As your therapist, I totally sign off on you getting off together.”

“You fucking-” Niall growls. The rest of it dies in his throat when Louis starts up his car and peels out, cackling.

“He’s a stupid fucking wanker.” Niall mutters when Conan nudges at his leg. “Don’t listen to him, yeah? Just focus on keeping me from strangling hippie-boy.”

Conan tilts his head to the side, peering up at Niall with curiosity. He does that a lot, like he’s trying to figure Niall out. He’ll need some luck, because even Niall’s not sure who he is.

“Let’s go inside and get some sleep, yeah?” Niall asks, chuckling when Conan chuffs and turns back towards the flat. He doesn’t start walking until Niall takes his first step though, sticking right to his side, and Niall appreciates it wordlessly by stroking at Conan’s ear.

When they get back to the flat, Harry is sitting on the couch, staring awkwardly into the cup of tea he has clutched between his hands, and Niall sighs, “Oh, you’re still here.”

“You didn’t have to sneak out to say your goodbyes, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “And you didn’t have to hold back when parting ways. You could have kissed him goodbye. I wouldn’t– I’m not– Nobody here would judge you for it. A lot of us here are-”

“Oh my god.” Niall snorts. “Louis isn’t my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?” Harry asks, looking up from his cup with a confused expression.

“He’s my therapist.” Niall explains. “He’s just a really unconventional one. We have a close relationship, one that most people might call unprofessional sometimes, but we definitely aren’t together.”

“Oh.” is all Harry says at first, flushing a bright pink. “I’m sorry. I– I shouldn’t have assumed that you’re gay.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Niall agrees. “But I am, so you’re fine. Now, I’d like to get to bed, so-”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Harry nods. “I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“Thanks.” Niall says, heading off towards the bedroom. When he gets to the door, he notices that Conan isn’t at his side anymore. The lab is sitting in the middle of the room, looking back and forth between Niall and Harry, obviously confused as to who he’s supposed to be following, so Niall mumbles, “C’mon, bud. Time for bed.”

“I’d advise against you letting him sleep in the bed.” Harry says as he stands up. “He hogs the duvet, and he likes to stretch out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Niall hums, opening up the door and waving his arm inside until Conan trundles over. He doesn’t look back as he walks into the room, closing the door behind him before he heads into the en-suite to brush his teeth.

Conan sits on the floor by the bed while Niall goes through his nighttime preparations, waiting to be told what to do next. When Niall undresses and sits on the edge of the bed, taking off his prosthetic to set against the nightstand, he also takes off Conan’s jacket.

He lays down after that, getting comfortable before he murmurs, “Get on up here. I don’t mind if you steal the duvet.”

It feels like a bit of a victory over Harry when Conan jumps up and curls himself next to Niall. So Niall slings an arm over Conan and lets himself give in to the exhaustion settling over him like a blanket.


	2. Chapter 2

Niall wakes up to knocking. Lots and lots of knocking until even the pillow over his head can’t block out the noise, which means that he isn’t falling back asleep until he puts an end to whatever wanker is pounding on his damn door. 

Conan is already up and standing by the side of the bed to help Niall when the blond manages to shove his stump into the prosthetic. He doesn’t have time to wrap it or put on the sock, so it’s not exactly comfortable when Conan helps him up, but Niall fights through it, driven by the rage building up inside the vein bulging on his forehead. It’s going to burst if whoever is on the other side of the door doesn’t stop knocking in the next few seconds.

If it happens to stop because of Niall punching them in the face, so be it.

“What?” Niall yells as he wrenches open the door.

“I– um– Hi?” says a slow, deep voice that adds to the irritation Niall is already trying to force down.

“Harry?” Niall asks, squinting until the neon green and dark brown blur swimming in front of his eyes comes more into focus. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s barely even light outside.”

“It’s seven thirty.” Harry says quietly, staring up towards the sky. “I’ve already gone for a run and picked up some coffee and scones for breakfast. Louis told me yesterday that I should let you sleep in a bit, so– I did.”

“Oh my god.” Niall mutters, adding another tick in the column of reasons that he hates the man standing in front of him. It’s already getting quite long, and Niall hasn’t even known him for a full day yet. “Fine. Sit on the couch and give me fifteen minutes to get ready. And if you could take Conan out so he can piss, that would be great.”

“Consider it done.” Harry says quickly, turning away and whistling for Conan.

When they’re out of the flat, Niall stumbles back through slowly, since he doesn’t have Conan to guide him and he can’t see so well without his glasses. It’s only when he starts to strip out of his boxers that he realizes why Harry had been acting so finicky and looking up towards the sky. He’s definitely sporting some morning wood that’s peeking out to say hello to the world.

Thank god Louis didn’t stay, because Niall would never fucking live that down.

 

“Sorry that took so long.” Niall mumbles as he makes his way into the living room area. “My shower at home has a bar that I use to stand, not a chair. It took longer than I expected to try and do it without the bar.”

“It’s fine.” Harry tells him, holding Niall’s coffee out to him.

It’s lukewarm, but it’s better than nothing, honestly. It helps Niall wake up far better than the equally lukewarm shower had. The scone doesn’t hurt either, and Niall lets himself enjoy the peace of the early morning country silence now that he’s accepted that he’s not destined to stay in bed until almost noon.

“I’m also sorry about how I answered the door.” Niall says when he notices that Harry is looking everywhere in the room except at him.

“It’s fine.” Harry repeats. “I forget that not everyone is a morning person sometimes.”

“Not about that.” Niall scoffs. “You were pounding on my door for five minutes straight, and I would’ve strangled you for it if I had been able to see you clearly. You’re lucky I didn’t have my glasses. I’m talking about the fact I answered the door with my prick hanging out.”

“Oh!” Harry says nervously, flushing a bright scarlet that goes from the roots of his ridiculously long hair all the way down into his obnoxiously bright shirt. “It’s not a big deal! I mean– Not that it’s small– It’s totally not. At all. I mean– Shit! I-”

“Harry.” Niall cuts him off with a sigh.

“Yes?” Harry squeaks out, wincing like he’s been struck.

“Shut up.” Niall mutters, turning his attention back to his meal.

Harry, thankfully, does just that, which lets Niall finish eating in silence and go through his messages. Louis has sent him six already, three asking if Niall needs him to come back, two asking for pictures of Conan to show to his receptionist, and one asking if he’s ‘plowed Harry like a cornfield yet’. Niall sends him a single response saying that it’s a no to all three, and to shut the hell up.

Liam and Bressie each sent one to ask Niall how things are going so far, so Niall types out a brief explanation of what all has happened since he arrived, leaving out the part about his dick trying to escape his pants. He takes a quick picture of Conan lying by his foot and sends it to both of them as well, just to spite Louis for being an arse.

“Alright-” Niall sighs once he’s answered all of his messages and finished his food, knowing he can’t put this off any longer. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Residence training.” Harry answers. “Today we’ll work on finding out what household tasks Conan will be able to help you with, or even do for you, in order to make things easier for you, along with what you’ll need to do in order to integrate him into your daily routine. But first, he should really go for a walk.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Niall mutters, lifting himself up out of the chair. Conan looks up at him and huffs, almost like he’s disappointed that Niall didn’t use his help to get up, so Niall tells him, “You need your jacket. Let’s go get that.”

Conan takes off as soon as the words are out of Niall’s mouth, bounding into the bedroom and returning a moment later with his jacket between his teeth.

“Holy shite.” Niall mumbles.

“He’s trained to be able to retrieve things when commanded.” Harry explains. “A big part of what we’ll be going through today is training him to understand certain cues from you, and teaching him to get the things that you specifically ask for. He knows several things, but we kept the training simplified so that he could learn from you what you need him to do. Most dogs can learn a few dozen words, sometimes over one hundred, but assistance dogs are chosen for their intelligence, and often learn over four hundred.”

“You are a bloody wonder.” Niall beams, helping Conan into his jacket. “Let’s get you outside, yeah? Go for a nice walk?”

Conan perks up at the suggestion and snuffles happily at Niall’s fingers before giving them a lick. He’s probably chasing the crumbs of blueberry scone that are left over, but Niall chooses to believe it’s because Conan likes him.

It’s brisk when they step outside, but the chill is nothing that Niall isn’t used to. Plus, only having one leg sticking out of his shorts helps cut down on the amount of skin exposed to the cold breeze blowing around. The benefits of an above the knee leg amputation.

“How long have you lived here?” Harry asks after a few minutes of silence wherein Niall could have almost forgotten that he was there, if he weren’t hovering in the blond’s peripheral like a tennis-ball colored cloud of annoyance. “Your accent isn’t that strong, but it’s still there, so I assume you weren’t born here.”

“That’s complicated.” Niall sighs. “I was born in Ireland, but my parents only stayed there for the first few months after I was born. Then my da moved the family to the outskirts of London, but my mother left him and took my older brother with her back to Ireland without me. Apparently I was flown back and forth a lot as a child, but I don’t really remember it at all. Then, I followed my da everywhere that he went with his charity. I took a break to get my bachelor’s degree, and then went back to the charity after that. So I’ve lived in England since I was a few months old, but I’ve spent most of my life living all over the place, rather than here.”

“Your father works for a charity?” Harry asks.

“He didn’t just work for a charity, he started and ran one. LiveWell, if you’ve heard of it.” Niall answers. 

“Holy shite! Yeah, I’ve heard of LiveWell!” Harry laughs. “You guys dig wells and provide vaccinations all over the third world. My sister went on two trips with LiveWell. Your father is Bobby Horan?”

“Was.” Niall corrects him icily. “He’s dead. He died last year.”

“Shite!” Harry hisses, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I– I’m sorry. I didn’t– I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Niall mutters, echoing Harry’s earlier words back to him, albeit with far less warmth than the gangly bloke had said them. “You didn’t know. Just change the subject, please.”

“What did you get your degree in?” Harry asks after a few moments.

“Astrophysics.” Niall sighs. “And it’s bloody useless.”

“That’s– That’s really not what I was expecting.” Harry mumbles.

“Why?” Niall asks, though he doesn’t really want to. Nothing about Harry’s tone sounded derisive, like he thinks Niall isn’t smart enough, but it still stings for some reason.

“Honestly? Because you don’t seem like the type to be satisfied sitting at a desk, solving math problems all day.” Harry says quietly.

“I wasn’t.” Niall snorts. “I hated that part, if I’m telling the truth. It’s why I stopped at a bachelor’s. I just wanted to learn about the universe and all the things out there. I wanted to look at the stars all day long, not do equations to figure out the temperature of them and how old they are and shite like that. The fun of the universe is in the mysteries, not the explanations. Scientists don’t like hearing that, though, so I decided to focus on the planet that I’m on, rather than all the ones out there.”

“That’s a nice way of looking at it.” Harry says softly. “I like that, about ‘the fun of the universe is in the mysteries, not the explanations.’”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a riot at parties.” Niall scoffs. “Give me the bag.”

“I can take care of it.” Harry offers.

“I’ll do it.” Niall mutters, grabbing the bag out of Harry’s hand and walking over to clean up Conan’s mess. Jesus, this dog shits a lot. At least he stands there and helps Niall keep his balance when the blond picks up what Conan’s left behind. “Remind me to get a scoop for this when we get back to Windsor, yeah? By hand is not the way to handle this.”

“There’s one in the home-care package that we’ll send you with when you go back.” Harry says, scaring Niall so badly that he nearly falls. If it weren’t for Conan, and the hand that Harry shoots out to grab onto Niall’s shoulder, he definitely would have.

“Stop doing that!” Niall hisses when he rights himself. “Even if you don’t send me into an episode, you’re going to give me a bloody heart attack!”

“I thought you knew I was standing here.” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Just– Just stop doing it, alright?” Niall sighs, feeling like a dick watching the man in front of him pull in on himself like this just because he made an honest mistake. “Have you ever worked with a PTSD client before?”

“No.” Harry admits.

“I could hurt you if I have an episode, Harry.” Niall explains. “I wouldn’t mean to do it, but it could happen. I can’t control myself during an episode, and I don’t know what happens until I come back. And don’t assume that you being more muscular than I am, or me only having one leg, means that I couldn’t hurt you. My boss is six-five, wide as a house, and all muscle, but I’ve given him a black eye and broken his pinky during episodes.”

“And you still have a job?” Harry asks incredulously. Niall doesn’t hold it against him. He’d be surprised by it too, if the roles were switched.

“He’s a family friend.” Niall says quietly. “He’s known me since I was basically a kid because he supported my father’s charity. He knew me before, and that’s given me a certain amount of leeway with him. I also switched therapists after that, and Louis adjusted my medications. I’m a lot more stable now, but I still have episodes from time to time, so you need to be careful about things that could startle me too much, if just for your own wellbeing.”

“It won’t happen again.” Harry says with a short nod. His eyes are shining with some kind of conviction, and it makes Niall’s gut twist. He doesn’t like it at all.

“Good.” Niall says quickly, taking the handle on Conan’s jacket. “C’mon, bud. Let’s go toss this in the bin.”

 

“I can help, you know.” Niall huffs, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m not an invalid just because I only have one leg.”

“It’s fine.” Harry says, waving him off. “Have you ever moved furniture with anyone? It’s like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. It’ll go faster if I do it on my own and you just direct me where to put everything. Especially since you’re the one that knows where everything is going.”

And it makes sense, but it still pisses Niall off for some reason. Nearly everything that Harry says or does pisses him off, actually. Even when he takes every bit of venom Niall gives him with a smile. Actually, that pisses Niall off the most. He’s just so fucking nice and happy and chipper, and it makes Niall truly furious. 

He doesn’t know why, either. It doesn’t normally piss him off this much when people are happy. Sure, he gets annoyed when the cashier at Tesco’s smiles like he’s got twelve Percocet in his system and tries to make conversation about the crisps Niall is buying, but who doesn’t? And he ignores old Mrs. Ferguson who lives next door to him and cheerfully asks him over to tea every time she sees him, but she’s got a reputation as a gossip, so he’s pretty sure she just wants to know about his leg. And he might have thrown the cupcake that Bressie got him for his birthday in the bin right in front of his face, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to celebrate. It’s not like he hates happy people on principle or anything. He just hates Harry.

“It’ll be easiest if we start with the bed, right?” Harry asks.

“Yes.” Niall sighs. “You’re lucky I don’t have that much furniture, or this would be a lot more difficult.”

“We’re trying to make a simple recreation of your room at home, Niall.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “Not an exact copy. It’s just to get Conan acquainted with the basic layout so that he can start dealing with things efficiently right from the start when you get home. This way, he’ll already have a basic mental map of how things are set up.”

“If this is a basic part of the training, why doesn’t the furniture come with pads to make things easier?” Niall asks. “And why isn’t there another volunteer to help in case one of the clients isn’t able to, like I’m guessing quite a few aren’t?”

“First off, I’m not a volunteer. I’m a full-fledged, certified instructor for the charity.” Harry grins. “Went through a special course, took a certification exam, the whole ca-nine yards.”

He starts laughing at his own stupid joke, and Niall just groans and says, “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Maybe.” Harry giggles, giving a halfhearted shrug. “But I’m willing to go the extra mile for clients. This is a perfect example, actually. This isn’t a standard part of the training. This is all me. The other instructors don’t do all this.”

“Then why are you?” Niall asks, rolling his eyes.

“Because I want to.” Harry hums.

“I just want it to be clear that I’m not asking for this.” Niall mutters.

“You don’t have to.” Harry chuckles. “It’s part of the ‘Harry experience’.”

“How the hell did I get stuck with someone crazier than I am for this process?” Niall sighs, looking down to Conan for the answer.

“Beginner’s luck.” Harry laughs, causing Niall to roll his eyes again. It’s hardly luck, if you ask him.

“Are you going to do this, or are we going to stand around talking all day?” Niall questions. “Because the second option sounds like a waste of time for all three of us.”

“Alright.” Harry concedes. “Where’s your bed at home relative to the door?”

“Over there.” Niall says, pointing to the opposite wall from where the bed is now. Luckily for Harry, the wall doesn’t have anything against it, so it should be relatively easy.

“Perfect.” Harry beams, setting to work.

It’s actually kind of amazing the ease with which Harry does everything. Sure, the furniture is cheap and basic, but he still manages to rearrange the entire room without once having to ask for help. He moves everything around with a smile on his face that Niall just wants to wipe the fuck off.

But he can’t, no matter what he says. It doesn’t matter how harsh Niall’s tone is, or how much he orders Harry around, because the brunet continues to grin like he’s at fucking Disney Land instead of moving bedroom furniture to teach a bitter, mean amputee how to work with an assistance dog. It’s insane. Harry is insane.

“Alright, let’s go do the living room before my heart-rate falls back down.” Harry hums, striding past Niall once the last of the furniture has been placed according to Niall’s specifications. His face and arms are covered in a thin sheen of sweat, as well as his torso, apparently. Niall only discovers this because Harry strips off his shirt and wipes at himself with it before turning and sheepishly asking, “You don’t mind, do you? I worked up a bit of a sweat.”

“Whatever.” Niall mutters, forcing himself to look down at Conan to keep himself from staring at Harry’s body. He may be annoying as fuck, but he’s got a good body. Niall isn’t too delusional to see that, but he also has no intentions of letting himself drool over Harry’s ridiculous abs or incredibly long torso. He blames Louis for the thoughts even showing up in the first place, and quickly reminds himself just how much he hates the man standing in the middle of the room, waiting for his next directive. “Not much to do out here. Just need to move the couch a few inches over that way, and then move the chairs so that they’re more off to the sides of it, rather than across from it.”

“Perfect.” Harry grins, setting to work while Niall focuses intently on his mobile.

Of course that’s when Louis calls, as if he’s got a sixth bloody sense for when he’s pissing Niall off more than usual.

“I’ll be back in just a minute.” he tells Harry, not bothering to wait for a response before he’s heading out the front door and closing it without letting Conan join him. He answers the call and says, “What do you want?”

“A boyfriend with arms big enough to throw me to the moon.” Louis sighs dreamily. “But I’ll settle for a check-in from you.”

“I’ve lost my other leg, shot up the facility, and skinned Harry to make a jacket out of when I get back to London.” Niall says dryly.

“So you admit that you want Harry all over your body.” Louis hums cockily, that tone in his voice that tells Niall he’s smirking again.

“You know, I’m ninety percent sure that an insanity plea would work in court if I murdered you.” Niall huffs. “It wouldn’t take much work at all, actually.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Louis chuckles.

“This bloody maniac started banging on my door an hour and a half ago!” Niall hisses. “And, since then, he’s managed to tap-dance on every fucking nerve I have. And don’t even get me started on him thinking you and I were a couple last night. That was fucking horrifying.”

“Hey!” Louis squawks. “I’m a catch! You could do much worse than me, Horan!”

“Could I?” Niall scoffs. “I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t.”

“You’re such a prick.” Louis grumbles. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because I pay you.” Niall sighs. “But I don’t pay you to babysit me, so what are you calling for?”

“I wanted to make sure that you’re okay.” Louis says, switching from being annoyed to being soft in an instant. “Have you had any episodes? Have you taken your meds? Do you want me to come back?”

“No, yes, and no in that order.” Niall sighs, leaning back against the wall. “I just want a new instructor that I don’t want to strangle every time he says or does anything.”

“He’s not that bad, Niall.” Louis says quietly. “You should give him a chance.”

“You know, I’m starting to think it’s you who’s attracted to him.” Niall scoffs. “You should go for it. He might not be able to throw you to the moon, but I can vouch for the fact that he’s quite strong. He rearranged all of the furniture in the flat as part of the training.”

“He’s not my type.” Louis says immediately. “He’s too bloody young, and did you see his face? He probably can’t even grow proper facial hair. I want a man who can leave rug-burn between my thighs, thank you very much.”

“That is way more information than any patient has ever needed from their therapist.” Niall groans, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Do you even know how to be professional?”

“If you needed a therapist who acted strictly professional with you, then any of the other three before me would have been a good fit.” Louis laughs.

“Well, at least now I know that you aren’t actually my friend. This is just your treatment plan for me.” Niall mutters. “Means I don’t have to hold back being mean to you.”

“Okay, you’ve never held back being mean to me.” Louis sighs. “And is that really what you think? Niall, of course we’re friends. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine.” Niall sighs. “There haven’t been any problems, but I’ll call you if there are.”

“Niall-” Louis starts, but the blond isn’t in the mood.

“Goodbye, Louis.” Niall interjects, ringing off before Louis can say anything else to him and then setting his mobile to silent before heading back inside.

“Was that Louis?” Harry asks as soon as Niall steps back through the door.

He’s still shirtless, lounged out across the couch with Conan laying between his obscenely long legs, and he’s the exact last thing Niall needs right now.

“Yes.” Niall answers curtly. “I need to go lie down for a bit. Do you mind if we postpone the rest of this for just a little while?”

“Do I need to go get the medic?” Harry asks, immediately sitting up and drawing his face into a concerned frown.

“No.” Niall tells him. “My meds can just make me a bit drowsy when they start to kick in. Plus, I’d normally only be waking up around now if I didn’t have to work. I just need to rest a bit, because I’m used to taking my days at a bit of a slower pace.”

“Yeah, of course.” Harry nods along. “I’ll get you when it’s time for lunch if you aren’t up already, yeah?”

“Sure.” Niall agrees, heading towards the bedroom. 

Conan doesn’t let Niall go alone this time, jumping off of the couch and sticking to Niall’s side like he’s glued to it. Niall makes a mental note that Conan does not enjoy being left behind before sitting on the edge of the bed, slipping his leg out of his prosthetic, and laying out with Conan beside him. He’s asleep in minutes, holding Conan a bit closer than is probably necessary.

 

“Niall, it’s time to get up.” a voice says gently, stirring Niall out of his sleep. The combination of the voice, and the warm body pressed against Niall makes him panic for just a moment, freezing and peeking open his eye, only to have his vision invaded by a dark, and very cold, nose. 

Niall shrieks as it makes contact with his cheek, twists away from it until he’s falling out of the bed and landing on his arse.

“Okay, is it me?” Harry asks. “Does the sound of my voice scare you or something? Because I’ve been told it’s soothing, but this is the third time I’ve scared you, so I’m starting to think that may not be true.”

“It was Conan this time.” Niall mutters, grabbing the sheets and hauling himself up until he can get his leg under himself and stand up properly. “But I definitely wouldn’t call your voice soothing.”

“Do you-” Harry starts, placing a hand on Niall’s elbow.

“No.” Niall says firmly, cutting him off before he can finish the question. “I’m fine. I might need a dog to help me do some shite, but I can stand up on my own. I’ve been doing it just fine for the last year.”

“Alright.” Harry sighs in resignation. “I went and grabbed lunch for us and brought it back here.”

“We could’ve eaten in the canteen. You didn’t have to do that.” Niall mumbles as he starts wrapping his stump quickly before Harry can get a look at it.

“I noticed that you don’t really like being surrounded by people that you don’t know.” Harry says quietly. “You purposely picked the farthest table from everyone at lunch yesterday, and you sat apart from the rest of the group during the seminar. I thought that you’d be more comfortable eating here than over there, because the instructors encourage clients to all talk to each other.”

“Oh.” is all that Niall say. He’s honestly a bit dumbstruck by the fact that Harry has noticed anything about him at all, other than that he’s a dick. “I, um– Thanks?”

“Of course.” Harry nods before turning away and walking out of the door.

Niall expects Conan to follow after Harry, but apparently he’s in for two surprises today, because the lab stays right next to him on the bed, waiting for a command. Niall doesn’t need anything from him at the moment though, so he just quickly finishes wrapping his leg and putting it in the sock to slip on the prosthetic.

“Have you got any idea what he has planned?” Niall asks, looking over at Conan. Conan tilts his head and whines in response, so Niall pets his ear and says, “I didn’t think so. Let’s go figure it out before he decides I’m too much trouble and has me booted, yeah? I don’t want the two of us to be separated just because the instructor annoys me. I like you too much for that.”

Conan butts at Niall’s hand with his head and then hops out of the bed, waiting for Niall to grab his handle. It isn’t really necessary, but Niall feels a bit guilty when Conan looks at him like he just wants to help, so he takes the assistance offered to him this time.

Conan stays at Niall’s side all the way into the living room, even when he sees Harry setting down a bowl of food for him. He does, however, look up at Niall and whimper when he sees his meal.

Niall just chuckles and tells him, “Go get it.”

Conan moves across the room like a brown and green bolt of lightning, just a blurred streak of color until he reaches his destination and starts to eat like the world is ending. He’d been the same way after they’d gotten back from their walk and he’d been served his breakfast.

“Does he always do that?” Niall asks.

“Eat like it’s his last meal? Yeah.” Harry smiles, reaching down to stroke Conan’s ear before heading over to the table. “Ever since he was a puppy. I don’t know why he’s always so desperate about it. He’s never gone more than eight hours or so without eating.”

“I can understand the impulse.” Niall hums, taking the seat across from Harry.

“I didn’t know what you’d want for sure, so I got you cheese and tomato sandwich with a packet of ready-salted crisps again.” Harry mumbles.

“That is literally always a safe bet with me.” Niall snorts. “I eat it several times a week.”

“Not a very imaginative eater, are you?” Harry giggles, smiling across the table as he starts layering crisps on his sandwich just like Niall does.

“Actually, if you knew me a few years ago, you wouldn’t be saying that.” Niall sighs. “Cheese was always a no for me. I’ve been a vegan for most of my life. My da insisted on it.”

“Why did you stop?” Harry asks.

“There wasn’t a point to it anymore.” Niall mutters.

“Oh.” Harry says quietly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful, or anything like that.”

“It’s fine.” Niall tells him. “How long have you worked with Conan?”

“Since before either of us was technically in the program.” Harry says with a smile, apparently just as grateful for the change in topic as Niall is. “Each of our dogs is fostered by a family for the first year or so of their life. Conan was fostered by my sister and myself. I’m even the one who named him. He’s why I got into the charity in the first place.”

“Why Conan?” Niall asks. “He’s not much of a barbarian.”

“Nope.” Harry laughs. “In a funny coincidence, it’s Irish, actually. It means ‘hound’.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Niall says flatly, crushing down his crisps with the top piece of bread. “You basically named the dog, ‘Dog’?”

“Yep.” Harry grins proudly. “It would have been better if he were a hound, but it works well enough. Plus it makes him sound tough.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a fucking loon?” Niall scoffs.

“More than once.” Harry nods. “I decided a while back to take it as a compliment.”

“Of course you did.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “If Conan is why you got into the program, does that mean I’m your first client?”

“The first one I’ve handled solo.” Harry admits. “I’ve only just finished the probationary period a few weeks ago. Before that, I worked alongside other instructors to learn the ropes.”

“So that’s what you meant by ‘beginner’s luck’.” Niall guesses.

“I mean, yes and no.” Harry says with a shrug. “It was kind of an inside joke with myself.”

“About me being a shitty first solo client?” Niall scoffs.

“No!” Harry squawks. “Not at all! I swear!”

“Relax.” Niall snorts. “I’m not going to report you or anything for thinking that I’m an arsehole. I am. It’s not a secret.”

“That’s not it.” Harry says quickly. “I just– It’s the name of an Elvis song. I’m a really big fan, and I quote his song titles and lyrics a lot. It was a game for me and my dad back in the day, to see who could sneak one past the other without them catching on. That’s all I meant by calling it an inside joke.”

“Oh.” Niall says in surprise. “Well, most of them are probably going to go right over my head. I’m more of an Eagles or Stones fan than an Elvis fan.”

“Blasphemy!” Harry hisses, though it’s immediately given away by the grin that slips onto his lips. “Actually, I love them both, but nobody is better than The King.”

“You’re definitely a fucking loon.” Niall laughs.

 

“Alright, give me your mobile.” Harry hums.

“He’s gonna get slobber all over it!” Niall whines.

“That’s what the case is for.” Harry laughs. “Hand it over.”

“If he breaks it, I’ll kick you in the bollocks with my fake foot.” Niall huffs as he passes over the device. “It’s solid plastic, so it’ll hurt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry chuckles. “Chances are I’ve done worse to them myself.”

“You think I can’t kick with this thing just because I have a stump for a leg?” Niall growls, narrowing his eyes.

“No, I’ve just done a lot of damage to myself in the general dick area.” Harry grins. “I’m kind of a klutz. Even managed to shoot myself there with a t-shirt cannon once.”

“My condolences.” Niall snorts.

“It all still works and everything.” Harry says with a shrug. “Get over here, Conan. Come get acquainted with Niall’s mobile.”

“Does this actually work?” Niall questions, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“No.” Harry says dryly. “Obviously this is part of a convoluted plan to coax you into kicking me in the testicles with your plastic foot, because I totally get off on that.”

“I can just lend you the leg if you want some private time with it.” Niall hums. “Just clean it before you give it back, and never, ever tell me what you did to it.”

“Just tell him the word ‘mobile’ a few times while he sniffs at it.” Harry sighs. “He needs to recognize the word from you so that he knows what you want when you tell him to get it.”

So he does. He sits there and tells Conan over and over again that that little block in front of his face is called a mobile. He repeats it until ‘mobile’ doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore, and he keeps repeating it after that for at least a total of twenty minutes.

“How many more times do I have to do this?” Niall sighs after what has to be the thousandth time that he’s said it.

“Oh, you only have to do it about twenty times or so.” Harry smirks. “He’s had the idea for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before I spent the last twenty minutes wasting my time?” Niall groans, fisting his hands in his shorts before he clocks Harry in his smug face.

“I thought I’d let you go on for as long as you wanted until you believed that Conan understood what you were saying, since you seem to think I’m incompetent.” Harry returns casually.

“I don’t think you’re incompetent.” Niall sighs. “A bit of a twat maybe, but not incompetent.”

“Wait– Really?” Harry asks disbelievingly.

“Conan obviously both adores and respects you.” Niall points out. “You can’t be that bad at this if he listens to you so well.”

“Well– shite.” Harry sighs. “Now I feel like a wanker.”

“You are one.” Niall scoffs. “But I’ve been worse, so I guess it’s fair.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry says quietly.

“Don’t be.” Niall tells him. “It’s actually kind of funny.”

“Still, that wasn’t professional of me at all, and-” Harry starts.

“Harry. Shut up.” Niall scoffs. “I’m an arsehole. I get it. I’ve put you through the ringer already, and that’s going to just be the next five and a half days of your life, though hopefully without my dick hanging out at any future point. Take your shots where you can get them, because I’m not going to hold mine back, whether you do or not.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different.” Harry chuckles. “Now let’s get him started on learning to retrieve your mobile on command, yeah?”

Niall doesn’t get Harry at all. He’s made it no secret that he doesn’t care for Harry, but the other man doesn’t seem affected by that knowledge in the slightest. He’s friendly and forgiving and pleasant, no matter how much of a dick Niall is to him. In fact, the only thing he’s done at all that wasn’t nice was let Niall make an arse out of himself.

So why the hell does his smile irritate Niall so much?


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay, this is definitely the most inane way that I’ve ever spent my time.” Niall huffs.

“It’ll be worth it when you get home.” Harry hums, threading the nylon rope through the tennis ball with an ease that Niall definitely despises. Harry has managed to make three of these contraptions, but Niall is still working on his first one. “Do you need me to show you how to do it again?”

“No.” Niall sighs. “I get how to do it. It’s just fighting me on actually working.”

“Here-” Harry chuckles, climbing out of his chair and draping himself over Niall’s shoulders and taking the blond’s hands in his own. “Is this okay?”

“I feel like a fucking child, but you’re not triggering me, if that’s what you mean.” Niall mutters. “Just make it quick, yeah?”

“That depends on you.” Harry points out. “These will work for a good long while, but they will eventually break down, and you’ll need to make them again. Show me what you’ve been doing.”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to this. I’ve been trying to shove the rope in the bloody hole.” Niall grumbles, attempting yet again to press the cut end of the rope in, only to have it bunch up on him and refuse to do anything other than wiggle around uselessly as he tries to push it harder.

“Well there’s your problem.” Harry says with a giggle. “You instinct is to put the rope in the hole first, then pull it through with the tweezers. I did that too, the first time. This is a better alternative-”

He removes the rope where Niall has pushed the tip in, and then uses Niall’s other hand to take the tweezers and shove them all the way through the hole.

“You have to really squeeze the base to get it to work properly, but then you can guide the rope through, instead of just tweezing off the frayed bits.” Harry explains as he holds Niall’s hand tightly and pull the rope inside the ball without it bunching up like it had before. “Then you just pull it through and tie the base in a knot so that it doesn’t slip back through.”

“Why am I making homemade dog toys again?” Niall asks as a way to remind Harry to remove himself from where he’s plastered along Niall’s back, pressed against him cheek to cheek and still holding onto his hands. “I’ll buy him toys, obviously. We haven’t got to go all DIY with it.”

“They’re not toys.” Harry tells him, standing up quickly and almost tripping in his rush to get back to his own chair. “They’re doggy door pulls.”

“They’re what?” Niall questions.

“Conan can open a typical door with a knob or handle, but he doesn’t actually have hands, so you put these on cupboards or drawers with pulls, and he can pull them open.” Harry explains.

“Oh.” Niall chuckles. “That’s useful.”

“It can be.” Harry nods. “Just don’t put anything in the drawers or cupboards which he can access that you don’t want him finding. Conan is a bit of a snooper and a hider. He took every pair of my pants out of my drawer once, and then hid them all over the house. It took me a week to find every pair.”

“What the hell was he snooping for?” Niall snorts.

“Kept an emergency stash of peanut butter in that drawer for bad days.” Harry admits, his cheeks flushing bright pink with the confession.

“Then why would you give him access to the drawer?” Niall laughs.

“Because I went a bit overboard in trying to teach him to open them up. I put them on every drawer in my room except one.” Harry sighs.

Before Niall can ask why Harry only left one drawer left inaccessible, his mobile goes off across the room. It’s not Louis’ ringtone, so Niall isn’t worried about answering it.

“Conan, mobile.” Niall orders, smiling widely when Conan rushes over to grab it and then bounds back across the room. They’d spent a good portion of the day teaching him different things that Niall could need retrieved, like his mobile and the remote control and his pill organizer, among other things. Niall takes it out of his mouth, wiping the slight bit of slobber off of the back with his shorts before he pets Conan and answers with, “What’s up?”

“Not you, wee one.” an all too familiar voice chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Shut up.” Niall huffs. “We can’t all be bloody giants. Miss me already?”

“Of course.” Bressie hums. “Without you, there’s nobody here to make surly comments or ignore the filing. The phones are getting answered. None of my clients have been called a ‘pretentious cunt’ right to their face. Everything is just falling apart over here without you.”

“Miss you too, you massive twat.” Niall laughs. “Can’t believe I’m having to go a week without seeing your mug. You should have fought Louis to drive me out here instead.”

“He may be tiny, but I have a feeling he fights dirty.” Bressie says with that tone Niall knows means he’s grinning. “I love ya, wee one, but I’m not taking a blow to the bollocks or having that little gremlin climb me like a tree and pull a Mike Tyson on my ear.”

“Love you too.” Niall scoffs. “Even if you won’t fight my therapist for me. Did you call for a good reason, or did you just miss the sound of my voice too much to put it off anymore?”

“Just wanted to check in and see how things are going.” Bressie tells him. “Had to make sure that you haven’t gone and punched anyone, or something like that.”

“Came close a few times, but no.” Niall replies, glancing at Harry, who’s sitting across the table and playing some weird version of peekaboo with Conan by covering the dogs eye’s with his own ears. “Not yet, at least.”

“That’s good.” Bressie hums, followed by a creaking sound and a rustle of fabric.

“Are you in bed already, old man?” Niall scoffs.

“Uh, yeah. It’s close to midnight.” Bressie returns. “I didn’t think I’d catch you, actually, but we had a late night at the studio, and I thought I’d at least try to see how you’re doing before I turn in.”

“Oh god, is it really that late?” Niall asks, pulling his mobile away from his face to see the clock flash 11:41 at him. “Fucking hell.”

“Too caught up with the pretty instructor to notice the time?” Bressie snorts.

“You talked to Louis!” Niall hisses. “You fucking traitorous cunt!”

“That wasn’t a ‘no’.” Bressie points out smugly.

“It’s absolutely a ‘no’.” Niall growls. “You’re both fucking twats, and I’m going to ‘pull a Mike Tyson’ on you myself the next time I see you.”

“You can try, wee one.” Bressie chuckles. “I’m pretty sure I can take you.”

“I hate you.” Niall mutters. “Goodbye, you colossal arsehole.”

“Love you too.” Bressie laughs. Niall has a feeling that he’s still laughing when the blond rings off on him.

“I should get out of here.” Harry says when Niall drops his forehead onto the table. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Funny how time slips away.”

“I didn’t either.” Niall sighs. “That nap and spending most of the day inside threw me off. I didn’t notice the sun go down or anything.”

“We’ll finish this in the morning, and then we’ll get to the things you’ll need to do for Conan.” Harry says, standing up from the table. “Veterinary visits, feeding schedules, medication regimens and all that. This whole process normally takes two days, so we’re still on schedule. In fact, we’re a bit ahead of schedule, so we should finish pretty early tomorrow.”

“We’re not ahead of schedule.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “We worked until almost midnight.”

“I’m a ‘glass half full’ kind of person.” Harry hums as he stands up and heads for the door. “See you in the morning, Nialler.”

“Niall.” the blond huffs. “Don’t call me that or I’ll sic Conan on you.”

Harry says nothing in response to that before he exits the flat, just laughs loudly enough that Niall can still hear him for a few seconds as he walks away.

“You’re going to need to act as a guard dog for him if he keeps being such a twat all the time, because I’ll kill him if you don’t stop me.” Niall says flatly, looking to Conan. The lab just whines at him and butts his face against Niall’s knee. “Come on. You can’t actually like him, can you?”

Conan sets his chin on Niall’s leg and looks up at him with wide eyes, which makes Niall sigh and say, “Guess there’s no accounting for taste. Ready for bed?”

That gets him a positive response, Conan snuffling against his hand and giving him a lick before standing up and waiting for Niall to grab his handle. Niall is tired enough now that he’s actually let himself think about it that he doesn’t even internally grumble about it for once. Instead he just wonders how many hours he’ll have free from Harry’s exuberance before he has to deal with the brunet again.

 

“I’m not thrilled that you consider eight-thirty ‘sleeping in’, but at least I woke up before you got here.” Niall mutters, letting Harry inside and taking the cup of coffee that Harry passes to him.

“And got ready, I see.” Harry hums. “I kind of expected to have to wait for you to do your whole routine again.”

“I wanted to be sure I was fully dressed before you showed up so there wasn’t a repeat of yesterday.” Niall sighs, lowering himself onto the couch and dropping his head back against the cushion. “I’ve been up for an hour to make sure you don’t see my dick again.”

“You’re really not a morning person, are you?” Harry chuckles, tossing Niall a muffin that only doesn’t drop to the floor by the grace of God and Niall’s rumpled jean shorts. Catching is not in Niall’s repertoire this early on in the day.

“I’m really not an ‘any-time-of-the-day person’.” Niall replies through a mouthful of muffin. 

“Has Louis called yet?” Harry asks. “Or whoever you were talking to last night?”

“No. They know better than to try to speak to me before noon.” Niall says flatly after swallowing his bite. “Louis only called so early yesterday to torture me because I refused to send him a picture of the dog.”

“Why?” Harry questions.

“Because he’s a dick.” Niall scoffs. “He knows I hate it when he acts like a mother hen, but he does it anyways.”

“He cares about you.” Harry points out.

“Caring about someone and babying them are two very different things.” Niall counters. “I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want anyone thinking that they need to look out for me, because I can do it myself. I may be fucked up and missing some pieces, but I’m not weak.”

“Needing help and being weak are two very different things too, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “It’s not weak to admit that we all need help sometimes, and you wouldn’t be here if you thought that it was.”

“You’re right.” Niall returns. “I wouldn’t. I can admit when I need help. I just don’t need it as much as some people think I do. It’s one thing with Conan or these other dogs. They help because they just want to help. They don’t pity or condescend. They don’t think that they know better. They don’t want to ‘fix’ anyone.”

“And you don’t think a person is genuinely capable of caring about someone the same way?” Harry asks. And Niall wants to find the question condescending in its own right, but he can’t. Harry just sounds curious, and Niall finds it irritating.

“I think dogs put everything on the surface.” Niall answers. “They aren’t capable of deception or manipulation. People are. People make you think that they’re one thing, but that’s not who they are at all. People make you trust them, and trusting another person is the most dangerous thing you can ever do.”

“Niall-” Harry starts, but the blond doesn’t even have to cut him off this time. He just watches as Harry wages some internal war about how to respond, and then sighs in resignation before asking, “Are you ready to take Conan for a walk?”

“Sure.” Niall nods, grabbing onto Conan’s handle and letting the dog pull his attention for a while instead of getting too lost in his own head. That wouldn’t be good for any of them.

 

“It says on your application that you have a large garden. Would you mind telling me how large?” Harry asks, looking at the clipboard in his hands.

“I don’t know. I think it’s like five meters by eight.” Niall tells him, trying to recall the exact size. He doesn’t spend much time out there, so he can’t remember exactly.

“That’s more than enough.” Harry nods. “You’ll want to have a doggy run built. We have a contractor that we work with who’s willing to travel, but of course you’re more than welcome to choose someone else if you like.”

“What the hell is a doggy run?” Niall asks.

“A fenced in area, at least two meters by two meters, which is specifically meant for Conan to do his business in.” Harry explains. “Some people call it a toileting run, but I don’t get that, because there’s not actually a toilet involved.”

“Should be called a shit box.” Niall mutters, unexpectedly pulling a startlingly loud laugh out of Harry. Niall looks down at Conan and says, “I think he’s lost his mind.”

“You’re funny.” Harry snorts, rolling his eyes. “When you aren’t caught up in hating everything and everyone, you’re funny.”

“I’m so happy that I amuse you.” Niall says dryly. “I could juggle for you if you’d like. Not well, but whatever. That’d probably make it funnier.”

“I’m not one for physical comedy.” Harry giggles, dropping his chin into his hand and grinning at Niall. “You should definitely do more jokes, though.”

“I’ll start writing them tonight.” Niall scoffs. “Sounds like a great use of my time here.”

“Just thought you might be getting bored with being grumpy all the time, and might want to switch it up.” Harry says with a smirk.

“I stick with what I’m good at.” Niall fires back. “Grumpiness and ice-dancing.”

“See? Funny.” Harry chuckles.

“Think I can’t ice-dance with one leg?” Niall asks, narrowing his eyes at the idiot grinning across the table at him.

“I don’t think you could ice-dance with two legs.” Harry snorts. “And I can’t picture you enjoying wearing the spandex and rhinestone outfits.”

“They make me feel pretty.” Niall hums. “Like a baby-blue disco ball with a great arse.”

“I’ll have to come watch you compete one day, then.” Harry grins.

“That implies that I have any competition.” Niall laughs. “They haven’t made a medal of any metal valuable enough to commemorate what I do on the ice, let alone a person who can compete with me.”

“You haven’t seen me on skates.” Harry returns. “I’d wipe the ice with you.”

“You’d wipe the ice with your arse.” Niall scoffs. “I’ve seen you trip over your own feet at least three times since I’ve been here.”

“It’s all a ruse.” Harry giggles, bringing his hands up to the sides of his face and wiggling his fingers.

“God, you’re a fucking loon.” Niall mutters, shaking his head to keep from smiling. He absolutely refuses to actually smile for Harry. “Get back to work instead of fantasizing about my arse in spandex, beating you all over the ice.”

“I can do both.” Harry hums, picking back up the clipboard. Niall’s eyes go wide at that, but Harry doesn’t seem to notice that the blond has gone as red as a tomato when he asks, “Have you found a veterinarian close to your house who can provide emergency services?”

“Uh– Yes.” Niall chokes out after a minute, turning his focus purely to Conan until he finally feels the heat in his cheeks begin to recede.

 

“It is absolutely pissing down out there.” Niall says with a shiver as he steps back inside. Conan shakes himself heavily, as if to prove Niall’s point, before trundling across the kitchen to where Harry is setting down his bowl of food. “Like a bloody monsoon.”

“Oh shite!” Harry hisses, his head shooting up and his eyes widening like saucers. “No! No! No! It can’t be!”

“Even my shadow is soaked from how hard it’s coming down.” Niall tells him, pulling his shirt away from where it’s plastered to his body in a display. “Why are you acting like the world is ending?”

“Because I didn’t bring my umbrella.” Harry whimpers, pulling aside the drapes to look outside. “I rode my bike today because it looked so nice out this morning.”

“There’s this nice, little app that’ll tell you the weather.” Niall snorts. “You’d have known it was going to rain today if you’d checked.”

“It’s not funny.” Harry sighs, dropping his forehead against the glass. “My house is fifteen kilometers away, a full village over, and I’m going to have to walk the whole way with my bike because it’ll be too wet to ride.”

Niall almost laughs, but even he’s not that mean. 

Apparently, he’s not as mean as even he thought, because he surprises the both of them by asking, “Do you want to stay here?”

Where the ever-loving fuck did that fucking come from? Fuck!

“Really?” Harry asks, looking at Niall with wide, hopeful eyes.

Shit.

“Until the rain stops.” Niall specifies. “If you get sick, then I’ll get stuck with a new instructor who might not take my abuse. And even I would feel a bit bad if you got hit by a car or something.”

“Thank you!” Harry squeals, wrapping his arms around Niall and pulling him into a tight hug.

“I will throw you out right now if you don’t let go of me!” Niall growls from where he’s pressed into Harry’s neck.

“Sorry.” Harry says quickly, stepping back and offering a sheepish smile. “Just– Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, but I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Niall tells him. Harry starts to open his mouth, but Niall holds up his hand and says, “Seriously, don’t mention it. Be a ghost. A silent ghost.”

“You go dry yourself off, and I’ll take care of cleaning up the water you two dragged in.” Harry says with a smile, completely ignoring the ‘silent’ part of Niall’s instructions.

“You’re also running over to grab our suppers.” Niall mutters before heading back to the bedroom. 

What the hell did he just get himself into?


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you cooking?” Niall asks when he’s drawn back into the living room from where he’s been hiding in the bedroom by the smell and sound of something sizzling.

“Yup.” Harry says with a proud grin. “They were doing pot roast, and I wasn’t sure if you actually eat meat, so I decided to steal some ingredients from the kitchen and do a vegetarian lasagna.”

“Oh.” Niall says quietly, looking into the pan where Harry is stirring sautéed spinach and mushrooms together, and a pot of white sauce next to that. “I, um– I don’t, actually. Thank you?”

“I figured it was the least I could do.” Harry mumbles with a shrug and a small smile. “Besides, there’s not been much to do while you’ve been back in the bedroom.”

“I was messaging my boss.” Niall tells him. It’s not the whole truth, since what he was actually doing was playing poker with Bressie and refusing to use the messaging feature after Bressie brought up Harry again. But they did talk for about two minutes, so it’s not a complete lie either.

What Niall can’t figure out is why he’s bothering to lie, or why he actually cares that it’s at least partially true.

“You don’t have any allergies, do you?” Harry asks. “Your form wasn’t exactly helpful in that area, since all that was written there was a word that was pretty heavily crossed out.”

“No allergies.” Niall mutters, eye twitching when he remembers what Louis wrote there. Hopefully it was crossed out enough that Harry couldn’t read it, though the smirk that’s threatening to tug at his lips tells Niall that it probably wasn’t. “I should have put that I eat vegetarian in there, but I was mainly focused on crossing out what Louis wrote.”

“I can see why it would have been distracting.” Harry snorts, his smile growing wider by the second, like he’s trying to pull one out of Niall too.

“He’s a twat.” Niall huffs. “Can you actually cook, or are you just messing about?”

“I can actually cook.” Harry huffs.

“Well I wasn’t sure, since you’re burning the fuck out of the spinach.” Niall hums, turning and walking out of the kitchen with a smile of his own once Harry shrieks.

Niall busies himself by playing with Conan, tossing around of the extra ‘doggy door-pulls’ that they hadn’t really needed, since there’s not that many things in the flat that Conan can’t access already. Niall’s prosthetic actually helps there, because he can brace it against the floor and put up a pretty good fight when Conan tries to tug it out of his grip.

Eventually Conan tires of that, though, and climbs onto the couch to rest with his head in Niall’s lap while the blond flips through telly stations, making a quick pit-stop to check the weather. Apparently the rain isn’t going to stop any time soon, but at least it’s just going to be rain. No storms.

Niall can deal with that, even if he is stuck with the annoying arsehole in the kitchen, quietly singing ‘All Shook Up’ and shimmying his hips like a lunatic. He’s a fucking whack job, but his food actually smells halfway decent now that he’s corrected course on the burned spinach, so Niall manages not to whip the tennis ball at his head.

That becomes significantly harder when Harry sits on the couch next to him and asks, “What do you want to do while the lasagna is baking?”

“Watch footy.” Niall responds gruffly, waving his hand at the telly.

“Which team are you supporting?” Harry questions.

“Neither.” Niall tells him.

“Then why watch if you don’t care who wins?” Harry asks.

“Because I like the game.” Niall says, curling his fingers in the fur on Conan’s neck to keep from reaching out and smacking Harry. “Doesn’t matter who’s actually playing.”

“Do you play-” Harry starts before trailing off and flushing a bright red.

“Of course not.” Niall says flatly, looking over at him. “I’m too busy with my ice-dancing to play footy.”

“Sorry.” Harry mumbles, casting his eyes down to where he’s nervously picking at the hem of his shirt.

“It’s definitely not the most offensive question I’ve been asked.” Niall scoffs.

“Still-” Harry sighs. “I should have known better than to-”

“You’re completely forgiven if you just shut up and let me watch the match.” Niall cuts him off. “Deal?”

Harry draws his fingers across his lips as if he were zipping them and looks down to his hands again, fidgeting, but otherwise remaining silent. And Niall wants to focus on the match, but there’s some feeling rolling around in his gut that keeps pushing and pushing at him until he can’t stand it anymore.

“Fine. What do you want to do?” he asks, putting the match on mute. Harry waves his hands, but Niall rolls his eyes and says, “Just tell me, Harry.”

“We could play cards?” Harry offers, still looking down at his hands. “I noticed you do that on your mobile a lot.”

“I didn’t bring any cards.” Niall tells him.

“I always put some things in the flats for clients that I’ll be involved in instructing.” Harry says quietly. “Cards, a few books, a puzzle, and some candles. Things to do in case the power goes out, or they don’t enjoy telly and they run out of their own things to do. People go through books and things more quickly than they realize out here.”

“Don’t know how.” Niall mutters. “Seems like the only time I get to myself is sleeping.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry sighs. “I should have driven today, or at least checked the weather report.”

“Shite happens.” Niall says, waving him off before tapping at his prosthetic and adding, “I know that better than anyone. Get the cards.”

“We don’t have to.” Harry tells him. “You can keep watching your match. I don’t mind if-”

“Harry.” Niall cuts him off again.

“I know, I know.” Harry mumbles. “‘Shut up.’”

“Actually, I was just going to say that you need to stop offering things like that if you don’t mean it.” Niall snorts. “Just get the cards, and I’ll meet you at the table.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asks hesitantly.

“If I have to tell you to get the cards one more time, I’m going to take off my leg and beat you with it.” Niall groans. 

Thankfully, Harry finally listens this time, which means that Niall doesn’t have to go through the trouble of taking off his leg, hitting Harry with it until his arms get tired, putting the leg back on, and listening to Louis or Bressie lecturing him while he’s stuck behind bars for assault. That would be annoying.

Conan hops off of the couch when Niall taps his handle, helps Niall up off of the sofa to escort him over to the table, and then seems all too happy to curl up again with his head laid on Niall’s foot.

“Found them.” Harry beams, dropping into the opposite seat. “I usually tell people about them on the first day, but I forgot to mention it before I left. Sorry about that.”

“Wouldn’t have made a difference.” Niall says with a shrug. “I play cards on my mobile, and I don’t particularly care for solitaire. I’m also not much of a reader, I hate puzzles, and the power hasn’t gone out, so I didn’t need the candles.”

“That’s what you think.” Harry hums, setting two thick, brown candles off to the side of the table. “But they smell really good. They’re cinnamon and vanilla, which kind of makes them smell like biscuits, but they’re actually incredibly relaxing. Do you mind?”

“Knock yourself out.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“Thanks.” Harry smiles, opening up a packet of matches and striking one. He lights both candles, and Niall has to internally admit that they actually smell really good. Externally he just continues to keep an expression that borders between bored and annoyed. Louis calls it his ‘resting bitch face’. He is not wrong. “What do you want to play?”

“Poker, obviously.” Niall tells him. “Conan, satchel.”

Conan huffs and climbs to his feet, trotting off into the bedroom and bringing back Niall’s satchel, which Louis insists on calling a man purse, and Niall insists on smacking him with every time he does. He waits until Niall grabs it, and then immediately goes back to his previous position with a loud, longsuffering sigh.

“Have you got poker chips in there or something?” Harry asks, eyeing the bag curiously as Niall riffles through it until he finds what he needs.

“Not quite.” Niall hums, pulling out four packs of smarties. Sue him for having a sweet tooth.

“You know that chocolate is poisonous to dogs, right?” Harry asks.

“Of course.” Niall nods. “They’re not for him. They’re our chips.”

“I have to confess, I don’t really know how to play poker.” Harry admits as Niall slides him two of the packs.

“Of course you don’t.” Niall sighs. “That’s fine. It looks like you’ll be stuck here for a while, so I might as well teach you something for once. Pass me the deck so I can shuffle.”

Harry does as told without asking a bunch of inane questions for once, and Niall pulls out the jokers before starting his shuffling. He shuffles the entire deck 7 times, and then sets it down on the table in front of him.

“I’m going to teach you Texas hold ‘em, because it’s the variant that’s most popular, so it’s the one you’ll most likely run into at some point down the line. For the first few hands, I’m going to stay playing the dealer, and we’ll switch off once you’ve got the hang of things, alright?” Niall questions. Harry nods, and Niall says, “Now take out your smarties and put them in a small pile.”

Niall does the same thing he’s just instructed Harry to do – only opening one pack because there’s no point in making the pile too big right now – before telling Harry, “Whoever isn’t dealing when it’s just two people puts in what’s known as the ‘big blind’, which is equal to the standard bet– which we’ll set at two for this, just to make things easy– and the dealer puts in half of that, and that’s called the ‘small blind’. When you play with more than two people, the player to the left of the dealer puts in the small blind, and the next player puts in the big blind. That’s so that there’s always money in the pot.”

“Now what?” Harry asks after putting two candies in the pile when he watches Niall put in one.

“Now I deal us each two cards, known as ‘hole cards’.” Niall tells him, flicking one card so that it lands in front of Harry, puts one in front of himself, flicks another towards Harry that lands right next to the first, and finishes by placing another on top of his own before placing the deck to the side of his hand.

“Okay, just the way that you dealt those cards has me nervous.” Harry mutters, picking up his cards and glancing at them. “Are you some kind of professional out to scam me or something?”

“Yeah, I’m out to scam you out of my own stash of candy.” Niall snorts. “Are you ready to start actually playing?”

“Just tell me what to do next.” Harry nods.

“Okay, normally whoever is sitting to the left of the person who placed the big blind starts things off.” Niall explains. “With two people, it’s whichever player wasn’t the dealer, so that’s you. Normally you can either fold, call, or raise, but we’re just going to have you stick with calling for now until you understand the rest of it.”

“What if my hand sucks and I want to fold?” Harry asks, crinkling his eyebrows and frowning at his cards.

“Doesn’t matter.” Niall chuckles. “This first hand is just for me to teach you how the betting process is done. We’ll get into the technicalities of how to handle your hand after you understand this part. Besides, you only have two cards, and you don’t understand the game enough to know if your hand sucks.”

“But they don’t match.” Harry pouts, turning his cards around to show Niall his queen and seven.

“Oh my god, you’re going to be horrible at this.” Niall groans. “You don’t show your opponent your cards, Harry.”

“Then how do we know who won?” Harry questions.

“Well obviously we show each other our cards eventually, but that’s still a bit off.” Niall sighs. “You didn’t think it was just these two cards, did you?”

“Maybe.” Harry says sheepishly, his cheeks pinking up a bit.

“Never, ever play this game for money. You’ll end up getting taken for everything you have.” Niall mutters. “Anyways, you need to call. That means you match the amount of the big blind.”

“Okay.” Harry mumbles, pushing two more candies into the middle.

“Now I’ll call too.” Niall says, adding two more to the pot in the center. “Now for the real beginning of the game. First, the dealer discards the top card of the deck without showing it, which is known as ‘burning the card’. That’s to make it harder to cheat. Outside of, like- real stakes play- it’s not necessary, but it’s still pretty standard practice. This next part is called ‘the flop’, and all that means is that the dealer lays three cards face up in the center of the table.”

“Why?” Harry asks as Niall places the three cards, a jack, a three, and a queen.

“Because Texas Hold ‘em is played by using your two cards with the five that are progressively played out on the table in order to make the best five card hand possible.” Niall explains. “And look, you already have a pair. That’s why you should never fold during the pre-flop stage unless your chips are running low and you’re just waiting for a hand that starts with a pair. Poker is predominately luck, shored up by the ability to read other people. Some people think there’s a lot more strategy or skill to it, but those are basically what it boils down to.”

“Do we bet again now?” Harry questions, reaching unsurely towards his pile of candy.

“Yes.” Niall answers with a nod. “You’re to the left of the dealer, so you’ll bet first. Just call again for now.”

“Okay.” Harry hums, scooting two candies into the pot, which Niall then mirrors.

“Now the dealer burns another card-” Niall says, placing another card face down on top of the last one. “Followed by a fourth card being placed in the center, which is called ‘the turn’.”

“Why?” Harry asks, watching as Niall flips over an ace. That’s nice, because Niall has an ace and a four, so now he has a pair just like Harry. And his is higher. Niall really hates losing. “Why is it called that, I mean? Not why do you do a fourth card. I get that now.”

“I have no idea, to be honest. I don’t know where a lot of the terms came from. I just know how to play the game.” Niall admits. “Call again.”

They both slide two more candies into the center, and then Niall says, “Now the dealer burns another card, and then lays the fifth and final card, known as ‘the river’.”

Niall places the final card, another queen, and groans loudly.

“Did I win?” Harry asks excitedly.

“Not yet, technically.” Niall sighs. “There’s one last round of betting, and then there’s the showdown, which is when you’ll win the hand.”

“Pay up.” Harry smirks, tossing his candies into the center.

“You’re a bit cocky for someone who showed his cards in the first round.” Niall huffs, moving his candies into the center so that Harry can claim them after they lay down their cards. “Alright, might as well show them. Congratulations.”

He drops his cards onto the table and sighs as Harry gleefully scoots the candy towards himself and giggles. Then he does something that Niall doesn’t expect, and splits the pile in half, with one more candy on his own side, before sliding them back towards Niall.

“What are you doing?” Niall asks, staring at the returned candies.

“That hand doesn’t count.” Harry replies with a shrug. “Neither of us should keep the winnings until we play for real when I know what I’m doing. I put in the big blind, so I get one more, but that’s all.”

“You should keep them.” Niall tells him. “I have a – no pun intended – leg up on you already when it comes to this.”

“You’re the one who told me it was mostly luck.” Harry points out. “How can you have an advantage in luck?”

“Because you’re still a beginner.” Niall counters. “I’ve been playing this game since I was ten, and I’m good at reading people. I know how to look for tells, but that’s going to take you some time and practice. I’ll divvy them back up if I win before we play for real, but you should keep them if you win.”

“No.” Harry says simply. “You have experience, and I have beginner’s luck. That makes us even, and I’m going to play fair.”

“Fucking loon.” Niall mutters, taking all the cards and reshuffling the deck.

It takes four more hands– with a break in between to eat Harry’s admittedly tasty lasagna– before Niall manages to teach Harry the basics of possible plays, hand rankings, limits, and bluffs, but they do get there without Niall actually killing him. If he happens to picture beating Harry to death with a cricket bat both of the other two times that Harry wins, nobody needs to know that.

“Now, you’re absolutely sure that you’re ready to start for real?” Niall asks. There’s no fun in outrunning a newborn horse, so he want to make sure that Harry at least understands the game. “Because we can go through it again if you have any questions.”

“I’m good.” Harry hums. “But, before we start, what do you say we make it more interesting?”

“We’re not playing strip poker.” Niall says flatly. “I’ve already seen you shirtless, and I don’t need to go embarrassing myself with my skinny twig limbs and stump.”

That’s not the whole reason, not even a fraction, really, but it’s enough.

“Not what I was going to suggest.” Harry giggles. “Interesting that that’s where your mind went first, though.”

“Nine out of every ten times someone has said that to me while we’re playing poker, they were asking to play strip poker.” Niall chuckles. “It’s not even that much more fun unless you’re playing with a bunch of people you’re attracted to, or people you absolutely hate and want to humiliate. The table is in the way of all the good stuff, and when you play with four or more people, it’s rare for anyone to actually end up starkers because you’ve got the possibility of needing to take off jewelry, shoes, socks, jumpers or jackets, shirts, trousers, and then finally pants. It’s only fun if you’re half in the bottle, or you don’t get laid much and just want to see someone else naked for once.”

“I’ll keep that all in mind.” Harry snorts. “Actually, I was thinking something else. Like- Whoever wins the hand gets to ask a question that the loser has to answer.”

“You’re actually trying to commit suicide by murder, aren’t you?” Niall scoffs. “You want me to kill you, so you’re trying to provoke me into murdering you.”

“I just figured that it would help time pass if we had something to talk about during hands.” Harry explains.

“I’m not telling you what happened to my leg unless you get a royal flush.” Niall tells him, knowing the hand is near impossible to get in a lifetime, let alone a single night. “And I reserve the right to veto a question if it fits into how I lost my leg.”

“That’s more than fair.” Harry agrees with a nod. “Is it my turn to deal?”

“If you want to start us off, sure.” Niall says, sliding the deck over to him. “You know how to shuffle, yeah?”

“I do.” Harry beams, showing Niall that he actually does by quickly shuffling the deck several times before setting it down. “I play a lot of other games, just not poker. Put in your big blind.”

“Look at you, using the correct terms and shite.” Niall chuckles, sliding his candies into the pot. “I was pretty sure you were going to make up your own.”

“I’m going to think about it for a while so I can come up with something special.” Harry hums, adding his own. “I’m thinking ‘big boots’ and ‘little boots’ or ‘big moonbeams’ and ‘little moonbeams’.”

“I’m assuming those are Elvis references?” Niall guesses as Harry deals out their hole cards. “Like you throwing out ‘beginner’s luck’ again earlier.”

“Good catches.” Harry says with a delighted grin. “Yeah, ‘Big Boots’ and ‘Dainty Little Moonbeams’ are Elvis songs. Do you know them?”

“No.” Niall snorts. “It was just either that, or you’re fully insane. I needed to check which was true.”

“And your findings?” Harry giggles, looking down at his cards like he’s trying to hide his smile.

“I’m still deliberating.” Niall returns, looking at his own cards to see a pair of tens. Shit. “I’ll know more after I win a few hands.”

“And your prediction?” Harry asks, burning the card and then placing the next three face down.

“You’re completely fucking bonkers.” Niall tells him. “I just need more than random Elvis quotes to prove that.”

“Gonna try and pass me off to Louis?” Harry asks, flipping over the cards for the flop, and instantly brightening Niall’s mood when he reveals a pair of sevens and a nine, bringing Niall up to two pairs. That has a much higher chance of winning, even though it’s only one rank higher. Most hands in poker come down to a pair or the high card. Anything higher than that vastly increases the chances of winning.

“Louis specializes in patients with PTSD.” Niall explains, tossing two candies into the pot. “Unless you went through a trauma that made you like this, then I don’t think he’s for you. I’m guessing you’re more chemically imbalanced than traumatized.”

“And if my mental health is perfectly stable?” Harry questions, fighting a smile.

“I’ve yet to ever meet someone who that was the case for.” Niall answers. “You want to bet?”

“On my mental health?” Harry asks confusedly.

“On the hand.” Niall sighs.

“Oh, yeah.” Harry says sheepishly, moving three candies into the pot.

“Match.” Niall announces, throwing in another candy to bring them up to equal bets. “As for betting on whether or not you’re crazy, that’s not much of a bet. Too obvious. It’d be much more interesting to bet on what kind of crazy you are.”

“You’re not giving me much credit.” Harry pouts, flipping another card. An eight. No good to Niall unless a jack or a six shows up. He’s close to a straight, but not close enough.

“To be fair, I’m giving you about the same amount of credit I give pretty much anyone else. A little more, maybe, for Conan’s sake.” Niall counters, tossing in his three candies.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended by that.” Harry hums, placing an equal bet.

“Neither.” Niall tells him. “Like I said, it’s for Conan’s sake.”

“Then I choose to be flattered.” Harry grins. “I raised him, after all.”

“Burn the card and deal the river, Harry.” Niall says flatly.

“Do you ever relax for more than five seconds at a time?” Harry asks, burning the card before picking up the last one. He doesn’t flip it over yet though, just waiting for a response apparently.

“No.” Niall answers him, rolling his eyes.

“I’m going to get that time up to ten seconds by the end of the night.” Harry grins, flipping the last card to reveal another ten. If he hadn’t spent so long perfecting his poker face, Niall would be doing a fucking backflip right now. “Make your bet.”

“Raise.” Niall says flatly, pushing six candies into the pot.

“Call.” Harry smirks, adding his own six to bring the pot up to twenty-seven. That’s roughly half of what either of them started out with, and Niall is surprised that Harry’s being so bold from the first hand. Then he understands when Harry lays down his cards, a five and a six, with a smirk and says, “I’ve got a straight. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”

“That’s a good first real hand.” Niall admits. “Too bad it doesn’t beat a full house.”

Niall lays down his pair of tens, his own smirk growing as Harry’s mouth falls open and the brunet whines, “I was so sure I was gonna win!”

“So sad for you.” Niall hums, pulling the entirety of the pot towards himself and adding it to his pile. “Pass me the cards?”

“Fine.” Harry pouts, scooting together his hole cards with the five on the table and handing them over with the rest of the deck.

“Never get too cocky.” Niall tells him as he organizes all the cards and begins shuffling them. “You’ll give away a good hand if you jump straight into raising from the flop. Speaking of, why did you start raising before you even had a straight? All you had was three in a row, with a fourth in a one card proximity. You needed to get an eight or a four in order to actually turn that hand into anything except a pair of sevens.”

“I was betting on my beginner’s luck giving me my fourth winning hand of the night.” Harry mumbles, putting in his blind.

“It did its best.” Niall chuckles, adding his own blind before dealing the hole cards. “Like I said, you had a good hand. I just got lucky. If it hadn’t been for that last ten, as long as the other card wasn’t a jack or a six, I would have lost. There were only seven cards in the deck that could have given me that win, since you had a six of your own. With five cards on the table, four in our hands, and three burned, that means that there was less than a twenty percent chance that the last card played could have given me what I needed, but you already had your straight from five to nine.”

“Wow, you’re really good with numbers.” Harry breathes out. “I thought you didn’t like math.”

“I don’t.” Niall shrugs, looking at his cards, a king and a queen. Both are clubs. It’s not bad, but it’s not great either. “That doesn’t mean I’m not good at it. This is nothing compared to the equations I had to run in my studies.”

He plays the flop, getting a two, a five, and a six. Only one is a club, the two. The other two are diamonds. Harry puts in his two candies, and Niall calls, putting two more in.

“What’s your question?” Harry asks when Niall puts in the turn, which is the eight of clubs. That’s looking better, but Niall still needs another club or a pair to have anything to play other than the king.

“What do you mean?” Niall asks.

“We agreed that whoever won the hand got to ask the other person a question.” Harry reminds him.

“Oh yeah.” Niall mutters. “Fine, um– What did you do for work before you started working here?”

“I– I was in the film industry.” Harry mutters. “Acting, and a bit of singing too. It didn’t go anywhere, so I came here instead once my sister got involved. It’s a much better fit.”

“Well, I can’t argue that you’re an effective instructor.” Niall admits. “Can’t imagine you being much of a film actor.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, looking up from his hole cards for the first time since they were dealt.

“Your face is too expressive for camerawork.” Niall explains. “I took an acting class as a bit of stress relief in uni, and I was taught that facial expressions needed to be more subtle on camera than they do on a stage. I could see you on stage, but all of – that – would play really huge on camera.”

“My expressiveness played well with the target audience.” Harry snorts.

“You sure it wasn’t your cheekbones that played well?” Niall scoffs.

“They’ve definitely helped a few times.” Harry says smugly.

“I’m sure.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. He burns the top card and then flips the last one over, sighing internally when it turns out to be the jack of diamonds instead of the final club that Niall needs. But Niall doesn’t look like the only one who’s disappointed. Harry’s captured his bottom lip between his teeth, and is chewing on it like he’s ready to eat his own face while he glances between the cards and his candy stash, and Niall makes an executive decision. It’s only a two candy difference, and he’s still up over Harry, even if he loses the pot. “You gonna bet?”

“Yeah.” Harry says quietly, pushing two more candies into the center.

“Call.” Niall announces, adding his own two. “Showdown time.”

“I have a flush.” Harry says, laying down his cards to reveal the ace and queen of diamonds.

“High king.” Niall sighs, grabbing the cards to stack back together while Harry takes the pot. “Good job. I thought for sure you were worried about your hand.”

“I was after last time.” Harry admits. “You told me not to get cocky.”

“You realize that there’s no hand combination that I could have played that would have beat your hand, right?” Niall asks. “Aces are high in hold ‘em, so you held the high card for the flush. A straight flush wouldn’t have been possible, because of the difference between the six and the jack there, and a royal flush definitely wouldn’t have been possible with only a jack in play. And there were no pairs out there, so a four of a kind or a full house were out. You could have been cocky with that hand and driven the pot up to get back some of what you lost last time.”

“You would have known.” Harry says with a shrug. “This came down to the last card, and if I’d waited until then to start raising my bet, you would have known I had something good and folded to save yourself the difference.”

“You make a good point.” Niall chuckles.

“Then why didn’t you fold?” Harry asks. “If you only had a king high, why didn’t you fold?”

“I’m stubborn.” Niall snorts.

“I’ve noticed.” Harry hums.

“Shut up and shuffle the cards, Harry.” Niall scoffs, scooting the deck over to him.

“You’re just grumpy that I’ve won more hands than you tonight.” Harry giggles, setting about his task anyways.

“You’ve won one more hand than I have. That’s it.” Niall huffs.

“Which is why it’s adorable that you’re so pissed off about it.” Harry grins.

“Conan, sic him.” Niall growls. “Eat him.”

Conan, per usual, just looks up at Niall and chuffs before rolling onto his side, licking a few times at Niall’s ankle before closing his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Niall mutters, reaching down and scratching behind Conan’s ear. “Shite guard dog you are, though.”

“Well, it would be different if someone were actually attacking you or invading your home.” Harry points out, setting the deck down in front of himself. “He’ll do what he has to when it comes to protecting you, but he’s not aggressive by nature.”

“That’s probably for the best.” Niall sighs. “I’d end up having him eat Louis at some point.”

“Why is your first reaction to annoyance to commit murder?” Harry asks with a roll of his eyes.

“Is that what you really want to ask as your question?” Niall asks flatly.

“No.” Harry decides quickly. “Um– How many places have you been outside of the UK and Ireland?”

“I’ve been to forty-seven countries, not including Britain, Wales, Scotland and the Irelands.” Niall answers. “Fifty-two, with them.”

“Fifty-two?” Harry squawks, his eyes going wide.

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “My da went to even more. I think his count was in the seventies.”

“Still-” Harry breathes out. “That’s amazing. You’re, what, twenty-five? I’m guessing that most of them were for LiveWell?”

“Yeah, but it’s not all what you think.” Niall admits. “I mean, a quarter of the countries I’ve been to were trips for fundraising purposes. I was better at charming investors than my da.”

“Really?” Harry asks incredulously, though he looks like he immediately regrets his tone.

“Yes.” Niall huffs. “Believe it or not, I’m fully capable of being charming.”

“No, that’s not it.” Harry says, shaking his head. “I’m sure you’re very charming. It’s just– Gemma – my sister – kind of had a crush on your father. She always said he was the most charming man she ever met.”

“He had a way with birds.” Niall chuckles, moving two candies into the center of the table for his blind. “He wasn’t a womanizer or anything, though. He was never with anyone after my mother. He just– Women liked him, a lot. Unfortunately, most of the big donors we went after were couples, and the husbands didn’t like him if the wives did too much, you know? That’s where I came in. I could lad around with the husbands, but also spend time with the wives, because the husbands knew I wasn’t going to shag them.”

“You are a constant source of surprise.” Harry chuckles.

“That’s me.” Niall says dryly. “Unpredictable and unstable.”

“Why do you take every compliment and turn it into an insult?” Harry asks quietly.

“Uh-uh.” Niall says. “You’ve already gotten your peek into my head for this round. If you want another question, then you have to win another hand, which means that you need to actually put in your blind, and deal the bloody cards.”

“Point taken.” Harry mumbles.

He says nothing after that, tossing in his blind and then dealing two cards to himself and Niall. Niall gets the jack of clubs and the jack of diamonds, which is a great set of hole cards, but Niall manages to keep himself contained and just throw in the minimum bet. He doesn’t want to tip Harry off too early.

Harry matches Niall’s bet, and then, after burning a card, plays the flop, which are the ten and ace of hearts, and the eight of clubs. Niall places the minimum bet again, and Harry matches him.

The turn is useless, the two of diamonds, but Harry seems concerned about that, so Niall raises to four candies. He’s putting a lot on just a pair of jacks, but something tells him that this is his hand. He’s got this in the bag.

Harry hesitantly matches Niall’s bet, and then burns the last card before playing the river. It’s the fucking jack of hearts, and Niall knows that he’s got this.

However, before Niall can bet, Harry rushes out, “I fold.”

“You what?” Niall hisses.

“I fold.” Harry mutters, slapping his cards face down on the table. “Take the pot. It’s yours.”

“Why are you acting so-” Niall starts, only to be cut off by the sound of a fist pounding furiously against the door.

“Niall James Horan, so help me-” a familiar voice roars, identifiable even through the door. “Let me in right now, or I will break this door down!”

“I’ll get it.” Harry says quickly, standing up and heading for the door.

He opens it up, only to be pushed aside immediately as Louis stalks into the room with fire burning in his eyes as he growls out, “I’ve called you over a dozen times in the last thirty-six hours.”

“I know.” Niall huffs.

“We have a deal, Niall!” Louis snaps. “When I call, you answer. I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m fine.” Niall grumbles. “Nothing has happened.”

“That’s– That’s not the point, Niall.” Louis sighs, crouching down in front of the blond. “You can’t just go radio silent. Especially after how things were left the last time we talked. When I call, you answer, and when you call, I answer. No matter what, we answer. That’s the deal.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall mumbles, feeling more than a bit like a chastised child.

“I’ll, um– I’ll just go now.” Harry says from over by the door. “The rain has mostly stopped, so-”

“Louis, can you drive him home?” Niall requests. “He has to walk, otherwise, and I can’t afford to have to switch instructors halfway through this if he gets sick. You can yell at me when you get back.”

“Sure.” Louis nods. “If that’s what you need me to do.”

“You don’t have to-” Harry starts.

“Come on, Harold.” Louis cuts him off, heading for the door. “When Niall actually asks for something, rather than telling me what to do, I know it’s important. Let’s get you home safe and sound.”

“See you tomorrow, Niall.” Harry says quietly before following Louis out of the door.

“Well, tonight took a weird turn, didn’t it?” Niall asks, looking down at Conan. “Wanna see what kind of shite hand Harry had to make him fold like that?”

He reaches across the table and picks up Harry’s hole cards, only to drop them a moment later. Harry had the king and queen of hearts. He’s got a one in thirty-one-thousand hand. Harry had a royal flush, and he folded.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re in trouble.” Louis chuckles when Niall finally wanders out of the bedroom with Conan by his side. “You said I could yell at you some more last night, but you were locked in the bedroom by the time I got back.”

“I didn’t feel well.” Niall mutters, avoiding eye contact with either Louis or Harry, who’s puttering around in the kitchen to get Conan his food. Niall pats Conan on the hip to tell him it’s alright to go eat, and the lab takes off for his meal. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Louis waves him off. “I lost my momentum anyways. The whole drive here, all I could think about was ripping you a new one, but then I saw you were okay, and I wasn’t angry anymore. Can we talk, though?”

“Guess I owe you that much.” Niall says with a shrug. “Come on. We’ll walk Conan, and we can talk then.”

“But he just started eat-” Louis starts, looking over to find Conan licking his nose to capture whatever crumbs might have gotten stuck to it when he scarfed down all of his food. “Christ, he eats fast.”

“Harry, do you mind staying behind for a few minutes while we do this?” Niall asks.

“No, that’s fine.” Harry mumbles so quietly that Niall barely hears it.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Louis asks once they get outside.

“Conan? Nothing. He always eats like that.” Niall chuckles, watching as Conan bounds forward a few steps at a time before turning to look back over his shoulder at Niall.

“Not Conan, Harry.” Louis clarifies. “Last night, he barely said anything on the whole drive home, and then he was fine when he showed up this morning, but he clammed up as soon as you came out of your room.”

“I didn’t do anything to him.” Niall huffs. “We were playing poker last night, and we got through a few hands before you showed up. We were playing for candies and answers, and- Things got a bit weird right before you knocked on the door.”

“Did you ask him if he likes cock or something?” Louis snorts.

“No.” Niall scoffs. “How many times am I going to have to tell you that I’m not interested in him? I don’t even like him. He annoys the piss out of me.”

“And yet, you offered to let him stay with you just so that he wouldn’t have to walk home in the rain.” Louis hums.

“I told you, I can’t afford to have my instructor replaced.” Niall sighs. “Annoying or not, he knows Conan too well, and he puts up with me. I can’t guarantee another instructor would, and I don’t want to get kicked out or deemed unfit after all of this. I don’t want to lose Conan. I may not like Harry, but I think he’ll sign off on me.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, something’s not good with him and you right now.” Louis says quietly. “You should talk to him.”

“I will.” Niall acquiesces, knowing better than to fight Louis on this.

“Now, about us-” Louis starts. “I– About what I said– I– God, I really should have thought more about what I was going to say on the drive here. Niall, you have to know that that wasn’t what I meant when I said-”

“I do.” Niall cuts off his rambling. “I did then, too. I just – Our relationship is weird, and I can never really tell whether we’re friends, or just an unorthodox therapist and patient.”

“We’re friends, Niall.” Louis says gently. “I may be your therapist, but we’re friends. We can be both.”

“There need to be boundaries, though.” Niall mutters. “You can’t go talking to my boss. Even if it’s just so he’ll join in your weird obsession about me and Harry. You can’t do that, Louis. I have to be able to trust you, and I can’t do that if you do things like talk to Bressie about me.”

“Alright, I won’t do that again. I promise.” Louis says firmly. “I just thought that you might open up to him about some things, which would make it easier for you to talk to me about them eventually.”

“Then why choose Harry as a subject?” Niall questions.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Louis fires back. “Even if you really aren’t interested in him-”

“I’m not.” Niall says flatly.

“Even if you really aren’t interested in him-” Louis repeats, shooting a glare at Niall. “He’s provoked a reaction from you. He has an influence on your life. He’s your only connection while you’re here, since you refused to let me or Bressie stay with you. That seems like someone that Bressie would be interested in knowing about.”

“If I want Bressie to know about Harry, then I’ll talk to him about Harry.” Niall sighs. “But, considering that he’s only going to be in my life for a week, and the fact that I don’t even like him, I don’t see the point. I just want to finish these last few days as smoothly as possible, and then go back to Windsor with Conan.”

“Have you been following your regimen?” Louis asks.

“I haven’t had as much time for yoga, since Harry gets here so bloody early every day.” Niall admits. “He’s given me time to meditate here and there, but it’s been hard to focus. I haven’t had any episodes, so there’s been nothing to journal. And I’ve been taking my meds, with the exception of the first day, which you already know.”

“Why will Harry let you meditate, but not do yoga?” Louis questions.

“He hasn’t like– not given me time. I just don’t like other people being around when I do it.” Niall admits. “He can’t just like- leave while I do it or anything. If he leaves me alone, they’ll think he’s not doing his job.”

“Are you afraid to let him see you without your prosthetic?” Louis asks.

“I’m not afraid of it.” Niall huffs. “I just don’t like people staring at it, and they always stare.”

“They don’t.” Louis says gently.

“They do.” Niall says adamantly. “People stare, Louis. You can pretend that they don’t, but they do. They look at me with either disgust, curiosity or pity, and I’m done with all three. I don’t want to deal with it anymore. And I know I’m going to have to sometimes, but I don’t have to take it from everyone. I get to choose who sees me like that, and Harry doesn’t get to.”

“Which reaction are you afraid of?” Louis asks.

“What do you mean?” Niall questions.

“You said it’s either disgust, pity or curiosity.” Louis offers in explanation. “Which reaction is it that you’re afraid Harry will have?”

Before Niall can tell Louis to fuck off, his mobile starts ringing. And of course it’s Harry. Of fucking course it is.

“What’s up?” Niall sighs, answering the call.

“There’s some guy here at the front desk who says that he’s here to see you, but his name isn’t on your registered visitors list.” Harry explains.

“Who is he?” Niall asks.

“He says his name is Liam.” Harry tells him.

“Take him back to the flat. We’ll be back in two minutes.” Niall says quickly, ringing off without waiting for a response.

“What was that about?” Louis asks.

“I have a visitor.” Niall hums, whistling for Conan and then pivoting to turn back towards where they came from.

“Is it Bressie?” Louis asks curiously. “He didn’t seem worried enough to come out here when I talked to him last night.”

“Okay, seriously, stop talking to Bress.” Niall huffs.

“You weren’t taking my calls.” Louis counters. “I know he’s your emergency contact, so I needed to know if something had happened to you and I just hadn’t been made aware.”

“You’re my secondary emergency contact, Louis.” Niall admits begrudgingly. “They’d call Bressie first if anything were to happen, but then they’d call you right afterwards. And I’ve told Bressie to call you if that were to ever happen anyways.”

“Why can’t I be your primary emergency contact?” Louis asks with a pout.

“Because.” Niall says flatly. “I trust Bressie’s ability to keep a level head in a crisis more than I trust yours. He’s not the kind who would drive out here like a maniac because I didn’t call him.”

“I’d argue that that means I just have a stronger sense of urgency than– What’s going on there?” Louis asks, pointing towards the flats where Harry appears to be talking very animatedly with Liam. The thing is, it doesn’t look as friendly as Niall is used to seeing from Harry. He looks upset, for some reason. Liam throws his hands up in surrender and shakes his head. Niall can’t tell if he’s saying anything though, because Liam’s back is to them.

“Why didn’t you call to tell me you were on your way?” Niall asks once they’re close enough for Liam to hear.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Liam answers, turning around and throwing a look at Harry before lifting up a large case. “I rushed just to get ready for you.”

“You are the most perfect man in the entire world.” Niall beams, pressing a smacking kiss to Liam’s cheek. “Can we do it now?”

“Just lead the way.” Liam nods.

“Hi– I, uh– I’m– Hi.” Louis stammers beside Niall. “I– Louis.”

“Very eloquent, Tommo.” Niall snorts. “You two find some way to keep yourselves busy, yeah? Conan didn’t actually do anything but walk, so you might want to finish that. I’ll be in the bedroom with Liam. Don’t bother us unless something fatal is happening.”

“I can give you half an hour, but no more than that.” Harry tells him. “There are things scheduled for today that I can’t move around.”

“Half an hour should be plenty of time, right Payno?” Niall asks.

“I should be able to take care of things in that amount of time.” Liam hums.

“Perfect.” Niall grins, grabbing Liam by the wrist and leading him inside. The other two don’t follow after them, and Niall closes the door behind them so that they aren’t tempted to. Hearing Conan whine through the door sucks, but Niall won’t be gone for long, and this is important. “Do you know Harry?”

“Um– No.” Liam answers when they reach the bedroom. “Why?”

“It looked like you two were arguing about something when we were walking up.” Niall explains.

“He– He wasn’t very happy about me showing up and not being one of your registered visitors.” Liam mumbles, setting the case on the floor. “Take your trousers off and get on the bed. I need to get a look at you.”

“You always know the right thing to say to make me feel special.” Niall snorts.

 

“You two finished finally?” Louis asks a bit harshly when Niall finds them waiting just outside the flat.

“From what I can tell, we’ve got time to spare.” Niall says, looking down at his mobile to confirm they’ve got a few minutes left.

“Guess time drags when you’re sitting around picking up dog shit and waiting for your friend to finish getting laid.” Louis mutters.

“Oh my god!” Niall groans, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “He’s my fucking prosthetist!”

“Wait, what?” Louis asks, looking between Niall and a sheepish Liam.

“Okay, you both need to fucking understand something-” Niall growls, pointing between Louis and Harry. “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m fucking every guy I talk to. Harry, that means Louis. Louis, that means Liam. I’m not fucking anyone here, but even if I was, it’s none of any of your business, so you all need to stop making assumptions about my sex life. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” they both mumble dutifully.

“Louis, I know I’ve talked to you about Liam.” Niall sighs. “He’s the one who takes care of Bobby.”

“Your father?” Harry questions. “But you said he’s dead.”

“He is.” Niall says with an eye roll. “That’s what I call my robotic prosthetic. I have a macabre sense of humor.”

He points down to his leg, showing off the advanced prosthesis that he’s replaced his other one with.

“You never told me you named your leg after your dead father.” Louis mutters. “That’s– I don’t know what that is. Material for about ten sessions, at least.”

“It’s sweet.” Harry says quietly. “Like he’s still supporting you, even though he’s gone.”

“That is the soppiest shite I have ever heard in my life.” Niall scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, you said we had something scheduled?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “We work with local shops and cafés to get our clients and their partners used to going to public places together. We’ve got the café visit scheduled today, and I have to put in my report by noon, so we need to get going soon.”

“Alright.” Niall agrees. “I’ll go grab my wallet, and we can get going.”

“No, have Conan do it.” Harry tells him. “He likes to feel useful, and you’ve already hurt his feelings today by leaving him behind.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” Niall chuckles, looking down at Conan who seems incredibly confused by Niall’s new leg. “Conan, go fetch my wallet, yeah? It’s on the counter.”

Conan perks up immediately at the command, racing inside and hopping up with his front legs to reach the countertop and grabbing Niall’s wallet in his teeth before running back over.

“Thanks, buddy.” Niall giggles, wiping the slobber off of the wallet before slipping it into his pocket. “I guess that means you two can head back to London.”

“We still haven’t had our session.” Louis points out. “You’ve already dropped to only seeing me once this week, so I can’t sign off on a five minute conversation as a full session. I can wait until after your training thingy though.”

“Alright.” Niall sighs. “Liam, are you good?”

“You could come with us.” Louis rushes out. “You drove all this way, so you might as well stick around for some tea or something.”

What the fuck has gotten into him?

“I guess I can stick around for a bit.” Liam shrugs. “I’ve got a little while before I need to get back for another patient. I should make sure everything’s working with Bobby anyways, before I drive off and leave Niall with twenty-thousand pounds worth of useless prosthetic.”

“Sounds heavy.” Louis says with an awkward laugh before grimacing at his own stupid joke and splaying his palm out over his face. “Sorry. That was terrible.”

“Okay, clearly Louis needs some caffeine so his brain will start working. Let’s get going on what has apparently become a class field trip, yeah?” Niall sighs.

“This is actually supposed to be just the two of us and Conan.” Harry says quietly. “We don’t want Conan getting overwhelmed or losing focus. That’s why we don’t do it in groups.”

“You two can leave us alone in the café, yeah?” Niall requests. “Keep your distance and all that so that Conan can do his job?”

“Yeah!” Louis squawks. “Whatever you need. I totally get it.”

“Jesus Christ.” Niall mutters. “Payno, you can go back to the city if you want to. No need to stick you with my therapist, who’s clearly losing his own mind.”

“It’s fine.” Liam chuckles. “Just– He’s not some sort of serial killer, yeah?”

“If he is, he’s playing the long-game with me, so you should be safe for a while.” Niall snorts. “I hope that’s reassuring.”

 

“What do you mean you don’t have a coffee name?” Harry asks incredulously, actually meeting Niall’s eyes for the first time so far this morning. “Everyone has a coffee name.”

“I just use my name.” Niall says with a shrug. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“It’s– It’s like your chance to give yourself a new name. You can create a whole new identity for yourself with someone who doesn’t know any better about who you are.” Harry explains. “You can be someone different, with a new story, if only for a few minutes.”

“Does that work for you?” Niall asks him.

“Sometimes.” Harry says with a soft smile. “Sometimes it’s nice to be someone else for a little while.”

“I’m sure.” Niall mutters. “Fine. What’s your coffee name?”

“Johnny B. Goode.” Harry grins.

“That’s Chuck Berry, not Elvis.” Niall points out.

“Elvis covered it for his album ‘From Memphis to Vegas/From Vegas to Memphis.’” Harry giggles. “It’s hard to find a good name based on an Elvis song. Most of the ones with names are women’s names, and I couldn’t pull off being called Judy.”

“I can do it, and I’ll have it by the time we order.” Niall smirks, running through the Elvis songs he knows in his mind to find one suited for a name.

“Next.” the barista calls out only a few seconds later.

“How about I go first?” Harry asks with a cocky grin. “Give you some extra time?”

“Non.” Niall says, putting on a French affectation. “I’m ready.”

Harry looks at him curiously, but nods and steps aside so that Niall can order.

“I will have a petite latte, s’il vous plait.” Niall orders. “And if I could have that with almond milk, I would be most grateful, cherie.”

“What name should I put on that for you?” the barista asks, leaning over the counter with her arms under her chest, presumably to push it outwards. Birds are such suckers for a French accent.

“J.L. Houserock.” Niall tells her.

“That’s different.” she giggles, scribbling Niall’s fake name on the cup. “What is that stand for?”

“Jean-Luc.” Niall tells her. “My father was Swedish, and my mother was French. They split the difference.”

“I’ll get right on that for you, Jean-Luc.” she hums, batting her eyelashes in a way that almost makes Niall lose his composure and gag. “And who’s this lovely gentleman who’s so eager to pay?”

“This is Conan.” Niall laughs, petting the top of Conan’s head when he hops up to the counter and drops the wallet clenched in his teeth.

“Like the barbarian?” she asks.

“Exactly like the barbarian.” Niall grins, shooting a smug look over at Harry before opening up the wallet and handing her a few notes. “Is that enough?”

“It’s exactly enough. It came out to three pounds even.” she nods. “Your order will be up in a minute, Jean-Luc.”

“Thank you, cherie.” Niall hums, grabbing his wallet and stepping over to the side.

Harry finishes his order quickly before stepping over to meet Niall and whispering, “Holy shite, that was really good. J.L. Houserock? Brilliant! And the accent? So good.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Monsieur Goode.” Niall chuckles, taking his latte as it’s set out for him, along with a complimentary doggy-biscuit for Conan.

“Where did you even learn to do that?” Harry asks, taking his own cup and walking towards a table with Niall.

“You learn a lot of accents when you travel the world, working with people from all over to accomplish a common goal.” Niall explains, dropping the affectation now that they’re out of the hearing range of the barista. “Some are easier than others. I can do a few alright, and some not so well. An American-southern accent is really hard for me, but I can do French passably.”

“It was more than passable.” Harry smiles. “That whole performance was amazing. I know you and I bought the whole thing, even the flirting. Given the fact that she wrote her number on your cup, I’d say that she did too. Have you ever considered acting professionally?”

“Unless they’re looking to do a ‘RoboCop’ reboot, I don’t think there are a lot of roles out there for me.” Niall scoffs.

“Could reboot ‘The Six-Million Dollar Man’.” Harry hums. “Your prosthetic is apparently expensive enough, according to Liam. Unless he actually meant it as weight like Louis thought, in which case you must be the Hulk.”

“Oh my god.” Niall snorts. “I have no idea what’s going on with him. I feel a bit bad for Liam over there, since Louis has apparently gone completely mad.”

“He’s trying to flirt.” Harry whispers.

“He what?” Niall asks disbelievingly.

“Look at him.” Harry murmurs, pointing towards where Louis is laughing loudly, drawing a sheepish blush out of Liam. “The laughing at things that aren’t even funny, the stuttering, the blushing– Louis is flirting with Liam, not losing his mind. How can you not see that?”

“Oh god.” Niall sighs. “That’s– Liam just got broken up with by his girlfriend a few months ago. He dates women. Louis may not be going mad, but he’s making an ass out of himself.”

“You should warn him then.” Harry giggles.

“Or– I can take some sadistic pleasure from this and wait until after Payno has left to let him know.” Niall says, settling back in his chair and passing Conan his biscuit. “Besides, we need to have a talk, and I don’t know when we’ll get the chance again until Louis leaves.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes out. “You looked, didn’t you? After I left?”

“You had a royal flush, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “You had the best hand possible, and you folded. I told you that I’d tell you what happened to my leg if you got a royal flush because I never thought you’d get it, but I’m a man of my word. I would have told you.”

“I didn’t want you to tell me.” Harry mutters.

“Really?” Niall questions disbelievingly. Everyone always wants to know, even when they say that they don’t.

“I didn’t want you to tell me just because you got backed into a corner.” Harry clarifies. “If– If you ever tell me what happened, I want it to be because you trust me enough to tell me your story. Not because I won some stupid hand of a stupid card game. That’s not right.”

“So you don’t want to know?” Niall asks.

“Only if you want me to know.” Harry answers, looking up to meet Niall’s eyes. “But I don’t think you do yet, and that’s okay. That’s your choice, and only your choice.”

“I– Um– Thanks?” Niall says, though it ends up coming out like a question.

“Now, why don’t you show me all the accents you can do?” Harry requests, leaning forward and setting his chin in his palm. “And start with that American-southern accent. I could use a laugh.”

 

“So how have things been going over the last few days?” Louis asks, setting his tape recorder on the table. He insists on being old-school like that, and Niall has long since stopped questioning Louis’ methods.

“Slowly.” Niall says dryly, more focused on petting Conan than the conversation at hand.

“Are you going to be difficult?” Louis sighs.

“No.” Niall chuckles. “I’m just being honest. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like it’s been a fortnight. I’m not used to doing so much all the time. Training Conan and going to the seminars and dealing with Harry– It’s a lot. And there’s been lots of walking, too. There’s been a lot to learn. Today is actually the most relaxed my schedule has been since you left.”

“How are you and Conan doing?” Louis asks.

“He’s the best bloke in my life.” Niall grins. “Far and away.”

“Should I be jealous?” Louis snorts.

“Not of Conan, but maybe of women as a gender.” Niall hums.

“I don’t understand.” Louis says confusedly.

“Liam dates birds.” Niall explains. “You spent all morning flirting horribly with a guy who likes women.”

“What?” Louis asks weakly, his eyes snapping up to meet Niall’s. “Really?”

“I’m afraid so.” Niall nods. “He and his girlfriend of over two years broke up a few months ago.”

“Damn it!” Louis groans, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “He didn’t say anything! He just let me sit there and make a fool out of myself that whole time, and he didn’t say anything at all!”

“He was probably trying to be nice.” Niall says gently. “Liam is the sweetest bloke on Earth, and he probably didn’t want you to feel embarrassed.”

“You could have warned me!” Louis hisses. “I gave him my bloody phone number!”

“Yeah, at that point it was basically like trying to stop a train crash with my bare hands.” Niall says sheepishly. “I was going to tell you when we left the café, but you wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to get a word in.”

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened.” Louis huffs.

“Do you really want to play the ‘whose life is worse’ game with me?” Niall snorts. “I always win, Tommo.”

“Let me be melodramatic for a minute.” Louis sighs, leaning back and dropping his head against the chair. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this humiliated. Wait– Does Harry know? Is that why you two kept giggling at me like fucking schoolgirls?”

“We were not giggling like schoolgirls.” Niall scoffs.

“So I humiliated myself in front of two practical strangers and a patient?” Louis asks, his pitch going up at least two full octaves. It’s squeaky enough to make both Conan and Niall flinch.

“It’s not that bad, Lou.” Niall insists. “I mean, you aren’t the only one who’s hit on a guy who likes women. We’ve all done it at some point. It’s a risk we take.”

“I wouldn’t be embarrassed if it was just a few minutes, but it was like– Two hours, and everyone knew except me.” Louis mutters.

“Do you want me to talk to him for you?” Niall offers. At first he’d been amused by the whole situation, but now he feels like a complete wanker.

“No.” Louis says flatly. “I never want to think about him again. Let’s just– Let’s get back to your session.”

_“No! Please!” Niall screams, throwing himself against the door just as it slams shut._

_“What’s going on?” Jade’s voice asks in the blinding darkness. “Why did they take us here?”_

_“Does anyone speak Arabic?” Eoghan asks from somewhere off to Niall’s left. “I think that’s what they were speaking.”_

_“Do any of us look like we fucking speak Arabic?” Josh snaps._

_“Stop.” Niall says quietly. It’s enough, though. Everyone else falls silent, and even though he can’t see a thing in the pitch black room, Niall can feel their eyes on him. “Don’t start a row. This situation is fucked up enough without us all fighting with each other. Eoghan asked a question that we needed the answer to. If anyone speaks Arabic, they need to let us know what was said. Does anyone speak it?”_

_“No.” the rest of them all mutter, one after another._

_“So we have no idea where we are, or why we’re here.” Niall sighs, following the wall out of the path of the door and sitting down. “Or what the fuck an armed militia group would want with a bunch of charity volunteers.”_

_“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.” Jesy whimpers, repeating the words over and over again._

_“It fucking is happening!” Dan growls. “So you need to fucking-”_

_“I said ‘stop’.” Niall cuts in. “Everyone needs to calm down and take a second to breathe. We can’t fight each other.”_

_“And who appointed you leader?” Perrie asks harshly._

_“He’s the only one here keeping a level head, and he’s dealt with more people of different cultures than the rest of us combined.” Eoghan argues on Niall’s behalf. “Can you think of someone better for the job?”_

_“There’s you, Eoghan.” Jon points out. “You’re the oldest.”_

_“I’m no leader.” Eoghan mutters. “I think it should be Niall.”_

_“We don’t need a leader.” Niall sighs. “We all just need to stay calm.”_

_“We’ve been captured by a militia group and thrown in a cell. I’m afraid the calm portion of the trip has passed.” Eoghan says, moving over next to Niall and sitting down, dropping his voice when he says, “These kids are going to be looking to you, Niall. You can’t keep trying to just keep everyone calm. You need to get them focused on something. Anything.”_

_“Like what?” Niall asks weakly._

_“Like a plan for getting out of here.” Eoghan says quietly. “You’re the smartest person here. If anyone can get us out, it’s you.”_

_There’s the thump of something heavy in the hall outside the door before Niall can respond, and then it’s thrown open and men rush in with weapons drawn. One slams the butt of his gun into Niall’s temple when he tries to stand up, and everything goes black when his head hits the ground._

 

Niall screams as he emerges from the nightmare, from the memory, flailing against the force holding him down. There’s something large beside him, moving around half on top of him, and he pushes at it, trying to struggle away. He falls and hits the ground hard, but manages to start crawling away until the sound of a door creaking open terrifies him into submission.

He curls in tight on himself, sobbing out, “It’s not me! It’s not me!”

“Niall, you’re safe.” a familiar voice murmurs as a hand strokes through his hair. “You’re safe.”

“Louis?” Niall croaks out, peeking from behind his fingers to find a calming set of blue eyes and sharp cheekbones and mussed brown hair that he can barely see properly without his glasses. If he weren’t so relieved that his nightmare isn’t happening right now, he’d probably slap Louis for being close enough that Niall can make out his features. “I think I had an episode.”

“I’d say that’s a safe bet.” Louis nods. “Let’s get you back in the bed, alright?”

“I can do it myself.” Niall mutters.

“Let Conan help you.” Louis says gently, pointing over to where Conan is lying on the edge of the bed, making himself as small as possible while he looks back at Niall.

“Oh, buddy.” Niall sighs, beckoning Conan over with his hand. Conan jumps off the bed and rushes over to Niall, rubbing his face on the blond’s chest. It feels almost like an apology, but he’s not the one who should be sorry. Niall is. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I hope I didn’t hurt you, buddy.”

“This is actually good for him.” Louis says quietly, stroking behind Conan’s ear. “He’ll need to get used to your episodes. It’s a big part of his job to help you through them.”

“I feel calmer already.” Niall admits, nuzzling his face into Conan’s neck. “Like– Like just having him here is making me feel better. Is that weird?”

“Not at all.” Louis tells him. “Lots of PTSD patients feel better just from proximity to an assistance dog. We’re not entirely sure why it happens, but it does. It’s a good portion of the reason that I wanted you to do this.”

“God, I hope they sign off on me keeping him.” Niall whispers. “Don’t know how I’d handle having him taken away now that I’ve started loving him.”

“I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about, Ni.” Louis murmurs. “Now, really, we should get you back in the bed. You can journal this episode in the morning.”

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I’m going to sleep down here.”

“On the floor?” Louis asks, keeping his voice neutral, though Niall can still tell he’s already running away with thoughts in that head of his.

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just going to stay down here.”

“Alright.” Louis says with a shrug, standing up out of his crouching position and walking away. Niall lowers himself onto his back, and is then immediately smacked in the face with a pillow. He tears it off of his face, ready to yell at Louis, but the brunet isn’t where he was a moment ago. Instead, his voice sounds from next to Niall as he crawls onto the ground and mutters, “Budge up. You’re lying right in the middle of the floor.”

“What are you doing?” Niall asks incredulously.

“What does it look like I’m doing, you git?” Louis scoffs, placing another pillow by Niall’s feet and lying down on it. “I’m sleeping here.”

And, really, Niall could whine and yell and bitch about it endlessly, but it won’t do him any good. Once Louis has made up his mind, it’s made up. Nothing Niall says will change it. He’s not even sure he’d want to if he could, because it’s oddly comforting knowing that someone will be there for him if he has another nightmare, even if that someone is Louis Tomlinson.

“Fine, but if your feet wind up in my face, I’ll punch you in the bollocks.” Niall grumbles, taking the pillow that Louis threw at him and shoving it under his head.


	6. Chapter 6

“Okay, shouldn’t we be doing this in an actual store?” Niall grumbles. “It’s bloody cold out here, and if it starts raining, we’re going to have a problem. Robot legs are pretty good, but they don’t like getting wet.”

“There’s less than a ten percent chance of rain.” Harry chuckles. “And the food here is so much better than what you’d find in-”

“You don’t have to sell me on the values of a farmer’s market.” Niall cuts him off. “Been shopping at them since before I could walk. I just thought we’d be doing this inside.”

“Truth be told, the store that we’re paired up with for this smells like arse because they’re right in between a Thai food place and a paint store.” Harry says quietly. “We can go there if you want, but I find most people prefer this place if given the choice.”

“No, we can stay here.” Niall tells him. “Just know that if my leg malfunctions, I’ll make you pay for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry hums.

“Do I have to actually buy anything?” Niall questions, looking around at the stalls.

“You can if you want to.” Harry nods. “If you don’t, they give us a list of things that the canteen can use, and it’ll be reimbursed by the charity. There’s a stall down there that sells some amazing jams, though. I recommend at least taking a look. We’re in the middle of redcurrant season, and, oh my god, it’s so-”

“I’ll buy two jars if you stop talking.” Niall cuts him off again. “You look like you’re about to bust in your pants just talking about it, and that’s supremely disturbing.”

“It’s really good jam.” Harry giggles. “Not quite that good, but close.”

“Lead the way, then.” Niall sighs. He can’t believe it, but he actually misses Louis. He works as a great buffer between Niall and Harry, but he left ten minutes before Harry dragged Niall out to this godforsaken market to buy some fucking jam.

“Do you want to check out some of the other stalls while we’re here?” Harry offers as they make their way towards the other side of the market.

“I mean, I might if I lived around here, but I don’t think anything I buy that isn’t preserved will make it all the way back to my house.” Niall explains. “The produce looks good enough, but I doubt it would survive a ninety minute drive a few days from now.”

“Oh, that’s true.” Harry hums thoughtfully. “The jam will, though.”

“Are you some kind of really shitty guerrilla marketer for this jam stand or something?” Niall scoffs. “Do they pay you for every poor twat you get to buy jam?”

“No. Why can’t I endorse a product that I believe in without having some ulterior motive?” Harry asks with a pout.

“Mate, you’re not Beckham. You don’t ‘endorse’, you recommend.” Niall snorts. “Besides, celebrities get paid to endorse products anyways, so they have ulterior motives. And who ‘believes in’ jam?”

“You’re such a cynic.” Harry sighs.

“Yeah, I am.” Niall nods unashamedly. He’s seen what people are capable of firsthand, and a cynic is the least of what he could have become afterwards.

“There’s a good side to that, though.” Harry says, a grin sliding into place on his lips.

“Oh, please, do tell.” Niall replies, sarcasm all but literally dripping from his tongue. “I’m sure it’s a revelation.”

“It’s all the more satisfying when a cynic becomes a believer.” Harry smirks, stopping in front of a stall. “And I’m going to make a believer out of you.”

“Do you even hear the things that come out of your mouth?” Niall groans.

“Just wait.” Harry chuckles, turning to face the bloke running the stall. “Hey there, Thomas. How are you doing today?”

“Good.” the guy, Thomas, says quietly, blushing as he looks down at his products instead of up at Harry. “How are you, Harry?”

“I’m really good. Thanks for asking.” Harry hums. “Brought someone for you to convert. He doesn’t understand why I keep going on about your stuff.”

“You– You don’t have to– To do that, Harry.” Thomas stutters out shyly.

“Thomas makes everything he sells from scratch.” Harry explains, turning to Niall. “He makes the jams and the shortbread fingers. Both are spectacular. You’ve got to try them. Absolutely life-changing.”

“Harry!” Thomas whines, burying his face in his hands to hide a furious blush. Clearly this kid wants Harry’s dick, and Niall would literally rather be anywhere else in the country right now than have to be present for this.

“You as good as he’s making you out to be?” Niall asks before he has to listen to any more of this.

“Nobody’s as good as Harry makes them out to be.” Thomas says quietly, pulling his hands away from his face and standing up a bit straighter to look at Niall now. “But I think I’m alright. Would you like to try a sample?”

“The redcurrant was recommended, so can I try that one?” Niall requests.

“Of course.” Thomas says with a quick nod, unscrewing the lid off of one of his jars. He takes a tiny spoon and scoops some into a sample cup, sticking half of a shortbread finger in alongside it. “Here you go.”

To give Thomas his credit, both the jam and the biscuit are tasty. Delicious, actually.

“So?” Harry asks, waggling his eyebrows. “Tell me I was right.”

“It’s good.” Niall says, pointedly ignoring Harry and directing the praise towards Thomas. “You really make all of this from scratch?”

“I do. They were my dad’s recipes.” Thomas says quietly. “He taught me everything, and he passed away last year, so I took over.”

“I’ll take two jars of the redcurrant, and two packages of the biscuits.” Niall decides. “Conan, wallet.”

Conan hops up, dropping the wallet on the table and snuffling at Niall’s hand. Niall pets him in response while he’s digging out the notes with his other hand.

“No, that’s too much.” Thomas say quickly when Niall passes over a wad of bills. “It’s only ten pounds for your order.”

“You’re undercharging.” Niall counters. “What’s your profit percentage with your current pricing? Ten percent? Fifteen?”

“Twelve.” Thomas admits sheepishly.

“You should be charging more.” Niall tells him, pushing the notes into his hand. 

“Niall-” Harry starts, but Niall isn’t done.

“And don’t argue with me. The customer is always right.” Niall says to Thomas. “I can’t tell you how to run your business, but I can tell you that you deserve more than a twelve percent profit.”

“Niall-” Harry tries again.

“Whatever you do, though, keep that extra from me.” Niall continues. “Don’t turn down money when you run your own business.”

“Okay. I, um– Thank you.” Thomas stammers out.

“Niall!” Harry cuts in.

“Jesus Christ– What?” Niall snaps.

“It’s starting to rain.” Harry points out, touching Niall’s arm and bringing attention to the dampness of a few drops that have fallen on him, making him freeze on the spot. 

No. No, no, no, no, no. There can’t be a storm right now. The weather report said it wasn’t going to happen. Niall checked. Niall always checks.

“Thomas, I’m sorry to cut this short, but we need to go right now.” Harry says firmly, commandingly.

“Bye, Harry. Bye, Mister Niall.” Thomas says quickly, handing Niall a paper bag with his purchase in it.

“Conan, carry.” Harry orders, taking the bag from Niall and passing it off as he takes Niall by the elbow and begins leading him towards the entrance to the market.

The sprinkle starts to pick up a bit more, and Niall whimpers out, “We’re never going to make it back to the center before it starts coming down.”

“We don’t need to.” Harry mutters, dragging Niall along so fast that his prosthetic can’t really keep up.

“Harry– Shite! I can’t move this fast!” Niall chokes out as he almost slips. “It’s not made for running!”

“Fuck. Please don’t hit me for this.” Harry sighs, stopping and turning towards Niall.

Niall is about to ask what he means, but it quickly becomes apparent when Harry drops his grip on Niall’s arm in order to loop it around his waist. The other arm tucks itself under Niall’s legs, and then the ground is slipping out from underneath him as Harry lifts him up.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Niall yelps, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders to keep himself from falling.

“I just need to get you into the bus stop.” Harry offers in explanation, sprinting towards the cover of a bus stop just past the market gates.

“I hate you so fucking much!” Niall growls.

“Well I don’t have it budgeted to buy you a new robot leg, so you’re going to have to get the fuck over it.” Harry huffs.

They reach the bus stop just as it starts to pour like a bloody monsoon, and Harry presses Niall against the glass wall in the back, as far away as possible from the torrent that’s coming down.

“We’re here! Put me down!” Niall snarls.

“Just a second.” Harry hums, nodding his head to the side and looking down at Conan, who’s shaking the water out of his fur with a vengeance. “Didn’t want to go through all of this just to have your leg end up getting soaked anyways.”

Once Conan settles down and hops up on the bench, Harry lowers Niall down onto it backwards beside the lab, softly saying, “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I didn’t want anything to happen to you or your leg.”

“You could have warned me at least.” Niall grumbles, wiping his glasses free of water for something to focus on other than Harry. “You’re lucky I wasn’t triggered. Being grabbed without knowing it’s going to happen is a trigger for me.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry says quietly. “It’s just– As soon as you noticed the rain, your eyes went wide and you looked terrified.”

“I don’t like storms.” Niall mutters. “As long as there’s no lightning or thunder, I’ll be fine. It’s just– When the rain catches me by surprise like this, it takes a few seconds to register that it’s not a storm.”

“Will you be okay if I run back to the center and grab my car?” Harry asks.

“There’s no point.” Niall sighs. “Just stay here. We’ll wait it out and head back once it’s over.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asks. “I can get there and be back in ten minutes at the most.”

“I can’t leave this bus stop until the rain is over.” Niall points out. “Liam would kill me if I fried the circuitry in here the day after he brought it all the way out here to me. Bobby is great and really advanced, but he’s also really sensitive when it comes to water. He can handle a light rain, but something like this’ll have him as dead as my da.”

“Jesus.” Harry mutters, taking a seat next to Niall on the bench. “I can never tell if this is just how you are, or if you’re trying to shock me specifically.”

“It’s just how I am.” Niall chuckles.

“I’d believe that, but you’re not this– intense– with Liam or Louis.” Harry mumbles.

“Liam and Louis have been around me a lot longer than you have.” Niall points out. “They’ve learned how to deal with me. And, trust me, I’ve been a lot worse with either of them than I have been with you. I’ve calmed down a lot in the last year.”

“This is you calmed down?” Harry snorts.

“You’d understand if you’d used your opportunity to ask about my leg.” Niall sighs, turning to look out the glass at the rain coming down. “But you didn’t, so you won’t.”

“I told you why I didn’t do that.” Harry huffs.

“And I’m just saying that making that choice is why you don’t understand why I am the way that I am.” Niall counters. “You’ll just have to believe me when I tell you that this is turned down a fuck-ton of notches from where I was a year ago.”

“You met my sister once, you know.” Harry says quietly out of nowhere.

“Did I?” Niall asks, taking his bag from Conan and pulling out one of the jars of jam and a pack of the shortbread fingers.

“One of the projects she went on was in Cambodia.” Harry explains. “Her group got there on the last day that you were there.”

“What year?” Niall questions. 

“Three years ago.” Harry answers.

“And you said her name was Gemma, yeah?” Niall asks for a reminder, receiving a nod from Harry. “Gemma, Gemma, Gem- Oh! The bird with the purple hair, right? On the taller side? Wears really fucking bright red lipstick?”

“Yeah, that was her.” Harry giggles. “Christ, I forgot she used to be so fucking colorful. She’s chilled out over the last few years too.”

“She hit the ground running.” Niall hums. “A great volunteer, from everything I remember hearing. I only talked to her for like– A minute, but I used to get progress reports for a few weeks after I left a site to make sure everyone was behaving themselves. Can’t say I can actually remember what we talked about. That’s not about your sister, though. I just talked to about a hundred people a day back then.”

“I wish I’d met you then.” Harry says so quietly that Niall almost doesn’t hear it over the sound of the rain.

“Want a biscuit or some jam?” Niall offers in lieu of responding to Harry’s comment.

He can’t bring himself to tell Harry that he really shouldn’t wish for that. Bressie is the only person in his life now who knew him before, and he can see it in his eyes. The disappointment. The pity. He thinks it would have been better if Niall had died instead of surviving, and he’s not wrong. All Harry would gain by having known Niall before is perspective on just how far Niall has fallen.

He doesn’t need anyone else looking at him like that.

“Can I have both?” Harry asks.

“No, one or the other.” Niall says sarcastically.

“Then I guess I’ll just dip my fingers in the jam to eat it.” Harry grins, reaching towards the jar with two fingers outstretched.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst!” Niall groans, snatching the jar away from him. “Just dip the biscuits in it like a normal person.”

“If you insist.” Harry giggles, taking a shortbread finger from the package when Niall holds it out and dipping it into the jam.

They sit in silence for a few minutes after that, just eating the biscuits and jam, staring out of the bus stop while they wait for the rain to stop. Of course the silence is too good to last, as are most of the good things in life.

“Why did you name it ‘Bobby’?” Harry questions out of nowhere.

However, before Niall is forced to answer, a familiar, ugly yellow car pulls up in front of the bus stop and the driver honks the horn.

“You guys want a lift?” Louis asks, rolling down the window.

“Can’t go out in the rain.” Niall calls to him, pointing at his leg.

“I’ve got that covered.” Louis beams, turning around and then looking back and holding up a bin bag. “This is waterproof.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you noticed, but you kind of need two legs to walk, and that’ll leave me with one. I’m not fucking hopping to your car when it’s this wet out.” Niall huffs.

“You are literally the most ungrateful sod alive.” Louis scoffs, opening up the car door and climbing out. “Take off your leg and put it in the bag, Niall.”

“Twenty thousand pounds worth of bionic technology, and I have to put it in a fucking bin bag.” Niall sighs, pulling his shorts leg back. “Harry, take Conan and my bag and get in the car. We’ve got it from here.”

“I can help.” Harry offers.

“Please, just get in the car.” Niall whispers.

“Alright.” Harry says quietly, taking the jar and the pack of biscuits to put in the bag before whistling for Conan to follow him.

“What are you doing here, Louis?” Niall asks once they’re alone, slipping his stump out of the cuff.

“I was driving, and I saw the rain start up, and I knew you’d be here.” Louis murmurs, crouching down next to Niall. “I got here as quickly as I could. I’m sorry it took me so long. I stopped to buy the bin bags in case you needed one for your leg.”

“I’m fine. It’s not a storm.” Niall mutters. “The same thing happened the other day. I got stuck in the rain while walking Conan. The only problem this time is that I have Bobby on.”

“I shouldn’t have left.” Louis mutters, helping Niall wrap Bobby up in the bin bag.

“No, you shouldn’t have come back.” Niall counters. “The rain is already starting to let up. We were going to head back once it was over. Now you’re going to miss an appointment with a patient, and that’s my fault. You shouldn’t have even stayed last night. I mean– I’m glad you did, but-”

“Stop.” Louis says firmly. “This isn’t on you, Niall. You’re my patient, and all you need to worry about is you. I’ve got someone covering for me with my other patients, so don’t try to take that on as a reason to fuel your guilt.”

“I’m not trying to-” Niall starts to argue.

“Yes you are.” Louis cuts him off. “You’re pathological about it, Niall. But this isn’t the time for a session about your guilt issues. Let’s just focus on getting you into the car.”

“Get Bobby in first.” Niall tells him. “I don’t want to risk dropping him.”

“Remind me to add an extra session about that name when we get back to London.” Louis sighs, taking Bobby out of Niall’s hands and rushing out to put him in the boot. He heads back over and asks, “How do you want to do this? Should I carry you?”

“No.” Niall growls. “I’ve already been carried once today, and I don’t want to deal with that again. Just get under my arm and we can get there.”

“Like a three legged race.” Louis hums with a nod, wedging himself under Niall’s arm and helping him up into a standing position.

It’s not the most effective way to get from place to place, but they manage to get Niall loaded in the back seat next to Conan, who immediately snuggles up against Niall’s side and licks his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. No need to get all jittery, buddy.” Niall snorts, stroking Conan’s neck.

“I think he was worried we were going to drive off without you.” Harry says, turning to look at them from in the front. “He just kept staring out the window and whining.”

“I love you too, buddy.” Niall whispers to Conan, looping one arm around the lab’s neck and cuddling him close. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Seriously, Louis, I’m fine. You need to go.” Niall sighs, rubbing at his temples with the tips of his fingers. The pressure does nothing to relieve the migraine starting to build up underneath his skin.

“We have another seminar to be getting to in a few minutes anyways, and that’s for instructors and clients only.” Harry adds, and, for the first time, Niall is actually grateful for something that’s come out of Harry’s mouth. “There’s really no point in you staying anymore. Especially when you can still get back in time to take most of your appointments for the day.”

“See?” Niall asks exasperatedly, waving vaguely in Harry’s general direction. “Even he says you should go back, and he isn’t nearly as annoyed by you as I am. We’ve got it from here, Louis.”

“Fine.” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll see you in the morning, day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Niall mutters. “Wear something pretty when you pick me up.”

“I have a toga from my uni days.” Louis hums thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

“Conan, sic him!” Niall growls. Conan, per usual, just snuffles at Niall’s hand and flops his head down in the blond’s lap.

“I’ll have you know that it’s very flattering on me.” Louis smirks. “Works wonders for my hips.”

“How does a toga- No. You know what? I don’t want to know. Just get going, Louis.” Niall mutters. “And do not come back in a toga.”

“So fussy.” Louis chuckles, turning to face Harry with his face going all serious. “You take care of him this time, alright? Don’t go fucking getting him stranded in the rain again.”

“I can take care of myself.” Niall grumbles.

“You heard him.” Harry says with a lopsided smile that makes Niall roll his eyes. “But I’ll do my best to keep him out of any more situations where that kind of thing would happen.”

“You’d better.” Louis says firmly. “I want him back in one piece when I return.”

“A bit late for that.” Niall mutters. Harry must hear him, given the snort he lets out, but Louis thankfully doesn’t. “Bye, Doctor Tomlinson.”

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you call me that.” Louis groans. “I’m going, I’m going. Pick up your mobile when I call you tonight, though, or I’ll drive right the fuck back out here.”

“What if I’m sleeping?” Niall questions.

“Wake up and answer.” Louis says flatly before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind himself before Niall can answer.

“I’d answer if I were you.” Harry giggles. “I think he’s serious about driving back out here.”

“He didn’t say I had to keep the conversation going for longer than five seconds.” Niall says with a shrug. “Let’s get going to this seminar, I guess. I’m starting to even hate the word ‘seminar’.”

“I know. They’re not my favorite thing either.” Harry admits. “But this one is a bit more interactive, so it’s not quite so boring.”

“Ugh, please tell me I don’t have to talk to the other clients again.” Niall whines. “Yesterday’s ‘peace and love and friendship and sharing’ seminar thing was pure torture. I still don’t even see the point of it.”

“No, you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and Conan this time.” Harry chuckles. He stands up from the chair he was sitting in and offers Niall a hand up, but Conan has no intentions of being outdone, apparently. He hops off of Niall’s lap, putting himself between Niall and Harry, and waits for his handle to be used with an expectant look.

“Ridiculous, you are.” Niall snorts, letting Conan help him up while rolling his eyes. “No need to get all jealous, buddy.”

“He likes helping.” Harry hums. “It’s kind of his thing.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Niall scoffs. “I thought it was making really obvious statements. Oh, wait- That’s you.”

“I have to stick with what I’m good at, and we can’t all be super-champion ice-dancers.” Harry says with a laugh, pulling a sputtering one from Niall before he can even process that it’s happening enough to stop it.

Once he composes himself enough to go back to his resting bitch face, he haughtily adds, “One legged, super-champion ice-dancer, thank you very much. Don’t go down-playing just how amazing I am.”

“Oh, I would never.” Harry giggles, opening up the door and ushering Niall and Conan out. “I thought it was implied. My deepest apologies.”

“I suppose that you’re forgiven.” Niall says, following the path under the awning that connects the flats to the community center. “Whoever built this place, on the other hand-”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a throwback.” Harry hums. 

“They’re risking a lot having this place exposed like this.” Niall sighs. “I’m guessing that most of your clients at least have prosthetics, if not motorized wheelchairs?”

“They’re looking to build another facility where the flats are a part of the center itself, but it’s expensive, and a lot more of the budget goes towards paying employees and taking care of the dogs and all that.” Harry explains. “You know how it goes with a non-for-profit.”

“Never enough money to go around.” Niall nods.

“We’re also relatively new, as far as this goes.” Harry admits. “We’ve only been around since late twenty-fourteen, and it kind of takes a while to get an operation like this up and running, so- Fundraising can be difficult when the results are only just starting to show.”

“I remember.” Niall nods. “LiveWell had some trouble getting off the ground. My da almost lost it and his shirt a few times. It’s why my mother left him.”

“Can I– Can I ask something without you biting my head off?” Harry questions, hesitation evident in his voice.

“No promises.” Niall snorts. “Those biscuits and jam were tasty, but not particularly filling. Might need a snack. You can ask, though. As long as it’s not about my leg. That train has left the station.”

“No, it’s, um- It’s about your mum.” Harry says quietly. “You said she left your father, and took your brother. Why didn’t she take you too?”

“Neither of my parents were in a place financially to take care of two kids.” Niall sighs, dropping his gaze to look at Conan, rather than Harry. “My mother found a job as a waitress, and my da was struggling with getting LiveWell up on its feet. They could each only afford to have one of us, and that’s how the cards got dealt. I don’t regret the way it turned out, though. My da was the best man I ever knew, and my mother and brother stopped talking to me when I came out. My father was the only real family I’ve ever had, and that’s fine with me. He’s all I ever needed.”

“Was it lonely, just the two of you?” Harry asks.

“Sometimes.” Niall admits with a shrug. “But then LiveWell really got going, and I got old enough to go with him on trips, and that wasn’t lonely at all. I’ve met more people in twenty-five years than most people could meet in ten lifetimes, and seen more of the world than almost anyone I’ve ever met. There were some lonely days, but I wasn’t ever really alone back then. My da made sure of that.”

“Sorry for prying.” Harry mumbles.

“No, it’s okay this time.” Niall tells him. “I never mind getting to brag about my da.”

“Do you miss him?” Harry asks, wincing afterwards, like he hadn’t meant to ask and he thinks Niall will slap him for it. “Shit! You don’t-”

“Every single day.” Niall whispers, opening up the door to the facility and heading in after Harry and Conan. “Miss him enough to name my leg after him, and to keep trying to get better when I’ve wanted to give up so many times. As soppy as what you said yesterday is, you weren’t too far off base. My da always supported me, yeah, but he also kept me moving forward in my life, and when I got this leg, I promised myself I’d try to keep doing that for him. That’s why I call my leg Bobby.”

“Can I say that that’s sweet without you getting mad at me again?” Harry asks with a slight smile.

“No.” Niall scoffs. “And don’t you go telling Louis that’s the reason, either. I’m trying to come up with some really twisted story to tell him, just to fuck with him. I’ve never told anyone that before, but I figured I owed you something.”

“What for?” Harry questions curiously.

“Lying to Louis so he’d get out of my hair.” Niall hums. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Harry says, crinkling his eyebrows.

“You told him this was just for instructors and clients, but we’re the only group here that’s just a pair. Everyone else has whoever came with them here for whatever this one is about.” Niall points out.

“Oh, yeah, well- That’s complicated.” Harry mumbles. “This is just for the two of us, since you live alone. If you had someone living with you, then we’d want them here for this too, but having Louis here wouldn’t really do much good.”

“I don’t remember telling you that I live alone.” Niall says, narrowing his eyes. “Have you been talking to Louis behind my back, too?”

“It’s on the forms, Niall.” Harry says with a roll of his own eyes. “I actually read those, you know. It’s important for me to know the information on there so I can work with you. Believe it or not, I’m on your side. You and Conan are my priority. I know you don’t like me very much– Or at all, really, I guess– But that doesn’t really matter to me. I’m on your side.”

Niall opens his mouth to respond. He just needs something snappy or mean or funny. He wants to say something, anything, but his mind goes completely blank. Harry’s words are hanging in the air like a miasma, and Niall can’t see through it enough to figure out what he needs to say to dispel them.

So, instead, all he does is ask, “What are we doing today?”

“Teaching you how to take care of Conan’s hygiene.” Harry sighs. “Bathing, checking for ticks and fleas, maintaining his nails. Things like that. And, just so you know, Conan hates baths. Hates them. You’re in for a rough time.”

“You aren’t going to help?” Niall questions.

“I’ll talk you through it, but you’re going to do the whole thing yourself.” Harry hums, eyes practically lighting up with mischief when he smirks. “What would you learn if I did it all for you?”

“You’ll behave for me, right?” Niall asks, opening up the door to the room Harry points to. As soon as Conan sees the large metal tub that he’s supposed to bathe in, his eyes widen and he runs back to hide behind Harry’s legs, nearly sending Niall to the ground when he pulls the lead out of the blond’s hand. He manages to catch himself with the door frame and mutters, “Guess this is what karma feels like.”


	7. Chapter 7

“How did your call with Louis go last night?” Harry asks, rocking back and forth on his heels. Show off.

“He called me five minutes after I fell asleep, and then spent half an hour asking inane question that went nowhere.” Niall grumbles. “It was annoying and pointless. Par for the course, really.”

“I suppose that’s why you’re such a ball of sunshine this morning.” Harry chuckles.

“No, that’s because of you.” Niall huffs. “Dragging me to the café again and making me put on that annoying persona, just because you didn’t want to grab coffee on the way to the facility but absolutely had to have it anyways.”

“Okay, one, I was running late-” Harry scoffs. Niall almost punches him in the throat for calling eight-fifteen late. “And, two, I happen to find Jean-Luc very charming.”

“Jean-Luc is about to throw his coffee in your face.” Niall mutters. “See how fucking charming you find him then.”

“Wow. Okay, so that’s how today is going to be.” Harry sighs. “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What are we even doing here at this stupid bus stop again?” Niall asks grumpily. “Reliving yesterday’s humiliation?”

“Today is public transport day.” Harry tells him. “We’ll take a bus into London, and then take the train to Oxford, and we’ll finish it by taking another bus back here.”

“Lovely.” Niall mutters. “Should have doubled my anti-anxiety meds.”

“Not a fan of public transport?” Harry asks.

“Not a fan of small, crowded spaces.” Niall admits. “I can handle them in small doses. I go into London four days a week for work, but that’s only forty minutes each way, several hours apart. This sounds like it’s going to be about three and a half or four hours of riding continuously.”

“Actually, if you want, we can take some time off between stops.” Harry offers. “Go around London for a bit before we catch the tube, and then go for a late lunch in Oxford before we come back here. That would help break it up. It’s not really about doing it all at once. It’s just to make sure it can be done if necessary.”

“I guess we can do that.” Niall shrugs. “’M not sure if it’s better to just get it over with all at once, or break it up.”

“You can decide once we get to London, if you like.” Harry says quietly. “Don’t feel obligated to make up your mind about it right now. And, if it makes you too uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this at all.”

“How is it going to go for me if I opt out of this one?” Niall asks him.

“Well, I mean- It won’t look good, but-” Harry says.

“Then I’ll do it.” Niall cuts him off. “I’m used to not being comfortable. I can handle this.”

“Alright.” Harry nods, still looking off in the distance rather than over at Niall.

“Listen, I’m sorry, alright?” Niall sighs. “It’s obviously not your fault that I’m a grumpy sod. It’s pretty much my permanent state. Blaming you wasn’t right. It’s just part of the whole ‘grumpy sod’ lifestyle.”

“It’s fine, Niall.” Harry mutters. “I’m used to it by now. You’re just not a very nice person, but as long as you’re just a jerk to other people, and you keep treating Conan well, then that’s all I care about. If you want to keep pushing people away, to keep being lonely, that’s your problem. It’s not mine.”

“That’s not fair.” Niall scoffs. “You haven’t even known me for a week.”

“And in that time, I’ve tried to do everything to get along with you that I can think of, and you’ve done nothing but hate me.” Harry says icily. “I don’t even know what I did, because, as far as I can remember– And believe me, I have been racking my brain for days trying to figure it out– I’ve been nothing but nice and accommodating, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done trying to be your friend. I’ll do the rest of what I have to do as your instructor, but I– I am so done trying anymore.”

“I said I’m sorry.” Niall breathes out. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing, Niall.” Harry says, stepping forward as the bus pulls up in front of them and opens its doors. “I don’t want anything from you.”

Niall is so stunned he only makes it on the bus in time because Conan drags him forward when Harry whistles for him.

 

“What do you want to do?” Harry asks. They’re the first words he’s spoken to Niall in the last two hours, and it’s actually kind of startling. “Do you want to head back to Oxford now, or do you need some time before we get on the tube?”

“I’m fine to head back.” Niall says quietly, keeping his attention on Conan.

Truth is, he’s actually not feeling his best. Between what Harry said, the ensuing silent treatment, and the two hours on four separate crowded buses, he’s really not doing that great. Apparently that’s written on his face, too.

“You’re lying.” Harry scoffs. “Niall, if you need time, you can take it. We have until six tonight to get back. It’s not even quite noon, yet.”

“Yeah, well– I don’t think either of us wants to extend today any longer than it needs to be.” Niall mutters. “The sooner we get back, the better, right? For both of our sakes, let’s just head to Paddington, get on the next train out of here, head back to Banbury, and be done with this.”

“Niall-” Harry sighs.

“Can we go back to the only part of this relationship that’s worked so far?” Niall asks venomously. “And, in case it’s not clear what I mean, I’m talking about the two hours that we didn’t talk to each other. It’s what you want, it’s what I want, and it’s the only way we’re going to get through the next day and a half.”

“Fine.” Harry says, his face and voice going unreadable, even to Niall. “Shite. Where’s Paddington from here?”

“I’ll get us a cab.” Niall says, turning towards the street.

“I can do that.” Harry offers quietly.

“Not as fast as I can.” Niall tells him, making sure to hike up his shorts a bit on the side with Bobby. “This thing is pretty much a jump pass when it comes to cutting the queue.”

There’s a line of cabs on the street outside of the station, and about four times as many people trying to claim one, but Niall walks straight into the throng, spotting a lone, middle-aged woman who’ll be his best shot at getting a cab. Women tend to be more generous, and Niall isn’t a nice enough person not to take advantage of that generosity. According to Harry, he’s not a nice person at all, and, well- Harry’s not wrong.

He reaches her just as she opens up the door, and says, “Ma’am, would you mind if we took that?”

“Did you just call me-” she starts, falling silent when she notices Conan at Niall’s side, and Bobby sticking out of the leg of his shorts.

“I’ve just spent the last two hours on a bus.” Niall says quietly. “My stump is really killing me, and my buddy here really just wants to get home.”

“Oh god.” she breathes out. “Of course. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, so much.” Niall says, offering her a bright smile. “You can get in, Conan.”

Conan seems all too happy to climb in, shoving himself against the other door as he waits for Niall and Harry to join him.

Harry starts to climb in after him, but Niall stops him by the shoulder and says, “You can sit in the front. I need room to get out, and I can’t do that with the three of us back there.”

“Shite, of course.” Harry hisses, backing away.

“Again, thank you so much, ma’am.” Niall says to the woman who gave him the cab. “You have no idea how grateful I am.”

“Not at all.” she waves him off. “Now I feel like I’ve done my good deed for the day, helping a disabled get home.”

“You-” Niall starts, thinking better of it before the worst combination of curses and insults he can drag up at the moment can form on his tongue. “You have. Thanks.”

He climbs into the back of the car after that, focusing on nothing except his breathing as soon as the door closes. Louis wouldn’t be happy if Niall lost it this close to the end of things over something as stupid as an ignorant woman saying something offhanded. And it feels next to impossible to find his center with Conan snuffling at his temple, and Harry looking at him with crinkled brows. But he eventually manages to shut all of it out, and that’s what he needs at the moment. It’s all he needs.

If Niall has learned anything in his life, it’s that the only person he can count on is himself, and that’s just fine by him. He doesn’t need anybody else, and he’s certainly not holding his breath for someone to prove him wrong.

 

They manage to find a car on the tube that’s relatively empty, and, thankfully, Harry doesn’t argue about how long it takes Niall to find somewhere that he’s comfortable, even if they walk pretty much the entire length of the train to get to the back. His nerves are rattled, and he just needs to be done with today. He needs to get back to the flat, take his next dose of meds before these ones wear off completely, and sleep until tomorrow, when his fate will be decided for him by someone who can’t stand him.

And he knows. He knows now that Conan isn’t coming home with him tomorrow, so he shuts himself off. He powers down his emotions, because he refuses to give Harry the satisfaction of knowing how much this loss means. He refuses to let his suffering show. He refuses to ever let another person have that kind of power over him again, and that has been his vow since the day he woke up in the hospital with his leg missing and his brain scrambled.

He does nothing to acknowledge the other two with him, pays no attention to either one of them, but Harry knocks him for a loop when he quietly asks, “Is it always like that?”

“Like what?” Niall questions stiffly.

“Like what that woman said to you back when we caught the cab.” Harry mumbles.

“Yes.” Niall admits, closing his eyes as the train starts up and plunges them into a dark tunnel. “Yeah, it’s always like that. Or worse. At least she didn’t mistake me for a soldier.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asks.

“It’s bad that they think I’m some sort of hero, when I’m nothing of the sort.” Niall mutters. “It’s bad that they think I got to be this way by protecting people, when I never managed to protect anyone.”

Harry says something, but Niall drowns it out. His whole body goes on alert because there’s a slight catch in the train’s movement, because he knows what’s coming now. He feels it before it happens, and the world moves in slow motion as the train grinds to a halt and the lights flicker off.

Niall prays, prays, prays that it doesn’t happen, but the whole car plunges into darkness, and Niall is gone before the emergency lights can save him from himself.

 

_“Who is it?” the man with the scar asks roughly, his voice thick and heavily accented. Distinctive. Niall still hasn’t learned his name, so he just calls him ‘Scar’, like the rest of them who are left. Niall can’t see him through the bag on his head, but he knows it’s him. Scar is the only one who speaks English._

_He’s a translator, or maybe the leader of the entire outfit. Niall isn’t sure. All he’s sure of is that Scar is someone that has no problems destroying Niall and every one of the people that he was captured with to get the information he’s looking for. He has no problem leaving them broken and bleeding and begging for the mercy of death. Scar is entirely without mercy, having cut their numbers down by half over the last two months, and leaving the living as little more than shells._

_Jade, Jesy, Leigh-Anne, Dan and Jon have been the lucky ones. They’re dead. They don’t have to face Scar anymore. They don’t have to try to come up with the information he’s trying so viciously to collect, despite the fact that none of them know the answer he’s looking for._

_“I don’t know.” Niall whimpers. “I swear, I don’t know.”_

_“One among the group you led to this country is a spy, working for British intelligence, and I want the name.” Scar growls. “Give me the name!”_

_“We’re a charity!” Niall sobs. “We’re only here to help people! We’re not spies!”_

_Scar orders something angrily that Niall doesn’t understand, and the two men holding him each take a shot at his gut with their fists, knocking the air out of his lungs before they drag him to the table and begin strapping him down._

_“No!” Niall screams as best as he can through the bag that Scar slipped over his head when he was carried into the room, kicking and screaming. “Please! I’m telling the truth! There’s no spy!”_

_“I know that is a lie!” Scar roars, slapping his hands down on the table next to Niall’s ears. It makes them ring so harshly he can barely hear Scar say, “I know that someone you brought is working for the British government!”_

_“They’re not!” Niall wails, struggling against the leather straps holding him down. They bite into his skin, too tight to even let him get proper blood flow, let alone to let him escape._

_“We will see what you have to say after this.” Scar bites out._

_Niall hears the sloshing of water in a jug and screams, but it dies in his throat as the water pours down onto his face and cuts off his airflow. His mind tells him for the first few seconds that he’s not actually drowning, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t breathe. It’s dark, and he can’t breathe, and he’s going to die._

 

“Get back!” Harry yells, his voice dragging Niall up from the memory so fast that it’s like hitting a wall in a racecar.

There’s too much going on, too many faces and too many flickering lights and too many voices mingling together that make Niall curl in on himself until he’s got his legs pressed against his face and his fingernails digging into his scalp deep enough to draw blood. He needs an anchor, something to hold onto that will ground him in the moment before his episode can drag him back down, and pain is the only thing his mind can recognize.

“Niall-” Harry says gently, touching his hand gently to the blond’s shoulder. He doesn’t try again after Niall flinches away. “It’s Harry. Can you hear me?”

“Make them go away.” Niall pleads desperately. “Please, please, please just make them go away.”

“Everybody needs to get out of this car, now.” Harry says, turning to the crowd of the few people who’ve gathered to watch the poor, pathetic freak on the floor. “Just go.”

“Does he need an ambulance?” someone asks, a man in the group of faces making Niall’s chest tighter.

“No!” Niall chokes out. “Just go away!”

It’s like a stampede as people rush towards the next car, apparently having had their fill of Niall’s mental breakdown and eager to return to their daily lives. Thank God.

“Niall, are you okay?” Harry asks, worry lacing through his tone. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Give me some room.” Niall whimpers. “Just– Just give me some space to breathe. I can’t breathe.”

“Can I help you up into a seat first?” Harry asks.

“What are you- Oh.” Niall cuts himself off when looks up for the first time since he resurfaced to find the lip of a row of seats hanging over his head. Bobby is laying on the floor across from him, probably lost on Niall’s instinctive mad dash for cover. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“No.” Harry assures him. “You scared a few people, myself included, but you didn’t hurt anyone.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall breathes out. “I’m– I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” Harry murmurs, brushing Niall’s fringe out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. Can I help you up? Please?”

“I’ll take care of myself.” Niall mutters, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “Just– Just take Conan and please leave me alone until we get to Oxford.”

“Niall-” Harry starts.

“I said leave me alone!” Niall bellows, curling back in on himself even tighter until he hears the door to the next car shut again, leaving the sounds of Harry’s boots walking away and Conan’s desperate whining hanging in the air to cover his sobs.

 

“Niall, I really think we need to talk about what happened back there.” Harry says gently.

“No point.” Niall sighs. “I just need to find a place where I can get something in my stomach, and then I’ll call Louis before we get on the bus back to Banbury.”

“If you won’t talk to me, then I think that’s a good idea.” Harry mumbles.

“He’ll be to the flat to pick me up by the time we get back.” Niall tells him. “Until then-”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks, cutting Niall off.

“I’m calling Louis to come get me.” Niall answers. “I’ll be out of your hair in less than two hours.”

“Niall, you can’t leave.” Harry says, stepping in front of the blond and asserting himself as an obstacle. “You haven’t finished your training yet.”

“What’s the bloody point?” Niall snaps, well past the point of caring that they’re in the middle of a crowded sidewalk in broad daylight. “We both know there isn’t one! Why the fuck would I stick around for another day? Why would I wait until tomorrow for you to tell me that you’re not signing off on me when it’s so fucking obvious? Have I not humiliated myself enough for you already? Was that not enough for you back there? Do you really have to see my face when you put that big fucking stamp of disapproval on my form? No fucking thank you!”

“What are you even talking about?” Harry asks incredulously.

“I’m talking about the fact that Conan isn’t coming home with me!” Niall growls. “I knew it before we ever set foot on that bus, and I’m not waiting for you to put a sign around my neck saying I’m unfit now that I’ve just given you the perfect excuse! I know I’m a fucking mess! I don’t need to be there when you tell a panel of people that I can’t have Conan because I’m no good!”

“Of course I’m signing off on you being permanently partnered with Conan!” Harry says loudly, throwing his hands up in the air. It’s not quite a yell, doesn’t have the anger to be, but it’s the closest that Harry’s come to completely losing it since Niall met him. “Why the hell would you think otherwise?”

“You– I– Did you miss me have that fucking episode back there?” Niall asks angrily, tired of Harry’s games. “I know I don’t get to have him after that.”

“That’s exactly what he’s trained for, Niall!” Harry groans. “Conan is going home with you tomorrow, as long as you stay with the program!”

“But– But, what about all those things you said to me this morning?” Niall asks weakly. “You said you were done trying.”

“To be your friend.” Harry sighs. “Niall, I didn’t mean that I’d given up on you as a client. You’re good to Conan. You love him, and he loves you, and I know you’d never have anything but his best interests at heart. What I said this morning was about me and you. I meant that I was done trying to force a friendship on you that you clearly have no interest in. I never, ever meant that I didn’t think you and Conan belong together.”

“Oh god.” Niall breathes out, stumbling towards a nearby bench and dropping onto it. “I– I can’t believe it. I’ve been so worried for days that I was going to lose him. It’s been destroying me.”

“Is that why you’ve been wound so tight?” Harry asks softly, taking the seat next to Conan, who’s cuddled up against Niall’s side like he’s glued there now that Niall isn’t keeping his distance anymore.

“I just really love this dog.” Niall whispers, burying his face in Conan’s fur and feeling his pulse start to slow back down to a normal pace. “I know I should have waited to get attached, but I didn’t. I’ve lost so fucking much, and I didn’t want to lose him too.”

“You’re supposed to talk to me about this kind of thing, Niall.” Harry mumbles. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Harry, but I’m kind of completely fucked up in the head.” Niall mutters. “I don’t handle things like a normal, sane person, because I’m not one. And, after this morning, I didn’t think there was any point in trying anymore. Not when even an apology for my behavior just seemed to piss you off.”

“I, um– I didn’t handle that very well, and I’m sorry.” Harry says quietly. “I just didn’t really know how to deal with this anymore. I figured that that was what you wanted. You’ve been pushing me away since you got here, and I decided to stop pushing back against that, because you clearly don’t like me.”

“It’s not about you, okay?” Niall sighs. “You’re– God, you annoy the piss out of me more than you could ever understand, but it’s not about you. It’s about me. You– You remind me of myself, back before all of this. You’re so fucking like the person that I used to be, and it just pisses me off, but that’s not about you. It’s just me, okay?

“You’ve never done anything except be a good, happy person, and it reminds me of who I was, and who I’m not anymore. It reminds me of my father, and what he’d think of me now if he’d lived to see it, and it makes me fucking miserable, which I take out on you. I’m sorry. I know it’s not nearly enough, but I am sorry.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually gotten the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech before.” Harry says, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile. “But I’d quite like to start over, if that’s okay with you?”

“You remember that I’m leaving tomorrow, right?” Niall scoffs, grateful for Harry’s amazing ability to cut through tension like it’s warm butter.

“That gives us one night to not be enemies, as long as you don’t leave now.” Harry says with a shrug. “I don’t know about you, but I think that I’d quite like that”

“I think I would too.” Niall admits, feeling like at least half of the world has rolled off of his back.


	8. Chapter 8

“I take it back.” Niall huffs. “I want to keep being enemies.”

“Don’t be like that.” Harry pouts.

“I can pay for my own lunch, Harry.” Niall tells him.

“Well, it’s too late for that.” Harry smirks. “It’s already paid for. Besides, you paid for the jam and biscuits yesterday, and I ate a lot of those.”

“And you’ve bought me coffee and scones every day for almost a week.” Niall argues. “I have a job, Harry. A pretty good one. I don’t need you to pay for me. You work a charity job. You’re probably more starved for cash than I am.”

“I’m really not.” Harry snorts.

“Just don’t do it again.” Niall sighs.

“So I shouldn’t bring coffee tomorrow?” Harry asks. “Because I was under the impression you didn’t mind that. And it’s kind of become a habit for me, at this point. We can consider it a graduation present, if you want.”

“You are either the craziest bloke I’ve ever met, or the most stubborn.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“No, you’re definitely the most stubborn.” Harry scoffs. “I have never, ever met anyone more stubborn than you.”

“Says the guy who insists on paying for my food for no reason.” Niall grumbles.

“Says the guy who can’t accept a couple of tacos without acting like it’s the end of the world.” Harry fires back, arcing his eyebrow in challenge.

“Stubborn.” Niall huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Stubborn.” Harry echoes with a roll of his eyes. “Eat your tacos, Niall.”

“I’m considering smashing them in your face, so I’m not sure I should eat any yet.” Niall hums. “Wouldn’t want to waste good smashing material.”

“Don’t.” Harry says flatly. “Don’t waste that taco. It deserves better.”

“It’s a meatless taco.” Niall says, rolling his eyes. “I may eat vegetarian, but that doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge that Mexican food is generally crap without meat.”

“Try the taco, Niall.” Harry insists. “Because I do eat meat, and I still get these, because they’re so good.”

“One halfway decent vegetarian lasagna does not make you an authority on vegetarian cooking.” Niall huffs.

“If that’s not the best vegetarian taco you’ve ever eaten, I will buy you a third and you can shove all three in my face.” Harry smirks. “I’m that sure about this.”

“Hope your skincare routine is good.” Niall hums before taking a bite. And, goddammit, Harry is right. The mushrooms that they used as a meat substitute are seasoned and cooked perfectly. It’s almost every bit as good as Niall’s ever managed to make them. He swallows his bite slowly, waiting until Harry starts looking nervous to ask, “How is there a place in Oxford that makes vegetarian tacos this good?”

“The owner emigrated from Mexico.” Harry answers with a relieved sigh. “And, obviously, there’s a lot of uni students around here, so she had to adapt her recipes a little bit.”

“It’s a shame this has to go to waste.” Niall grins.

“What are you-” Harry starts, only to cut himself off with a squawk when Niall flings a finger-scoop of guacamole in his face. “What the hell?”

“It’s not the best vegetarian taco I’ve ever had.” Niall giggles into his hand. “But it’s the second, so I’ll settle for just that much.”

“You’re lying!” Harry hisses, wiping the guacamole off of his cheek with an angry glare.

“No, I’m not.” Niall grins. “There’s one person’s vegetarian taco I’ve ever had that was better than this.”

“Whose?” Harry asks with a huff.

“Mine.” Niall smirks.

“You’re going to have to make them for me some time and prove that, then.” Harry grumbles.

“Oh, I’ll get right on that.” Niall snorts. “Now shut up and let me eat my tacos.”

 

“Do I need to come out there?” Louis asks worriedly.

“No.” Niall sighs, watching Harry run from one side of the fenced enclosure to the other, trying to beat Conan in a footrace. Of course, even with those mile-long legs of his and trading out his skinny-jeans for a pair of shorts that put the ‘short’ in the name- which he apparently keeps in a locker at the facility for exactly this purpose- he can’t win against Conan. “It’s fine, Louis.”

“It’s not fine, Niall.” Louis says quietly. “You had an episode, and, from what you’ve told me, it was a very serious one. And don’t get me started on the fact that you were only a few miles from me, and could have gotten off at the next stop and called me.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, okay?” Niall mutters. “I was panicking because I thought I was going to lose Conan, and the bus rides into London were really cramped, and there was some other stuff that-”

“What other stuff?” Louis cuts in.

“It’s not important, Louis.” Niall mumbles.

“It damn well is important, Niall.” Louis hisses. “If there’s something going on that’s driving you to become so stressed it contributes to an episode, then I need to know about it. That is literally my job.”

“Louis, it really isn’t important.” Niall huffs. “I was just a bit frayed and worn down and it all just sort of collided to make everything explode.”

“Niall-” Louis says so quietly that the blond barely hears it even though his mobile is pressed right against his ear. “Please. Please stop pushing me away. Please stop trying to take everything onto your own shoulders when I’m here to help you.”

“Some woman just made a comment about doing her ‘good deed for the day’ by ‘helping a disabled’.” Niall admits. “That’s it, okay? It’s so stupid, and I know it’s not worth losing my head over. I tried not to, okay? I fucking meditated in the back of a cab for twenty minutes trying to calm down, but it didn’t work enough to stop the episode from happening when that tube went dark.”

“Are you sure that’s everything?” Louis asks.

And, no, it isn’t. The fight with Harry probably contributed to things more than Niall wants to admit. But, the thing is, Niall doesn’t really think there was any stopping that episode, even if the conditions going into it had been ideal. The suddenness of the tube going dark, the trapped feeling that comes with being in such a confined space with no way out- It was too much for him even if he’d been in the right headspace before getting on that train.

So Niall says, “Yes, Lou, I’m sure.”

“I’m worried, Niall.” Louis sighs. “You told me that you felt better after an episode just because Conan was there. Why would you push him away after this one?”

“Because I was sure that Harry was going to keep me from bringing Conan home, and I didn’t want to get even more attached when I thought he was going to be taken away from me.” Niall tells him. “When we got off in Oxford, I told Harry that I was calling you to come get me and bring me home, because I was positive that this whole thing was going to end up being a waste after what happened. Then he told me that he’s signing off on me and Conan, and I’d built everything up in my head to be worse than it was.”

“Oh god.” Louis groans.

“What?” Niall asks.

“My car is going to smell like dog for weeks.” Louis whimpers.

“Yeah, but you already knew that.” Niall says, rolling his eyes before focusing on Harry and Conan making their way out of the enclosure and towards Niall, both looking a bit knackered from their running around like lunatics. But Harry’s easy smile and Conan’s excited snuffling says they both had fun. “Unless you thought I was going to fuck it all up.”

“Not ‘fuck it all up’, exactly.” Louis mumbles. “Bressie and I just weren’t sure if it would go your way since you decided to stay up there alone.”

“Oh my god.” Niall scoffs. “Nobody believes in me, do they?”

“I do.” Harry hums, dropping down on the grass in front of the bench Niall is parked on. “Even if you did smack me in the face with your guacamole. Tell Louis I say hello.”

“You ‘smacked him in the face with your guacamole’? Is that a euphemism for something sexual?” Louis snorts. “Have I completely lost touch with today’s youth? Because that’s a bit gross.”

“Oh my god, you are the actual worst.” Niall sighs. “Goodbye, Louis.”

“You have to tell me if you’ve been fu-” Louis starts before Niall rings off.

“You didn’t tell him I said hello.” Harry pouts.

“If you want to tell him hello, I can give you his number, or you can wait until tomorrow.” Niall mutters. “He’ll probably be here bright and early. I’m not dealing with more of his weirdness than necessary just to play telephone between you two.”

“Christ, I asked you to tell him ‘hi’, not ask him on a date for me.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “What’s got you in a mood again?”

“I’ll give you three guesses and a hint.” Niall grumbles. “He’s my bloody therapist.”

“You two remind me of siblings.” Harry snorts.

“He pisses me off on purpose sometimes, and I’ve thought about popping him in the jaw more than once.” Niall admits. “But I guess he’s pretty much the closest thing I have to a brother now, since my own rejected me. Even if he does annoy me for shits and giggles.”

“Do you ever talk to them?” Harry asks.

“My mother and brother?” Niall scoffs. “No. The last time I spoke to them, my mother told me that I deserved what happened to me ‘as punishment for my sinful lifestyle choice’. That bridge isn’t reparable.”

“Wow, that– Wow.” Harry says, shaking his head. “Fuck that.”

“That– Is not what I was expecting from you.” Niall says, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“What were you expecting?” Harry asks incredulously.

“I don’t know. You’re all hippie-dippy and shite.” Niall shrugs. “Figured you would tell me that family is the most important connection that we have, and that I should try to change their minds and open them up to love, or some stupid shite like that.”

“I was thrown out of my house when I came out.” Harry mutters, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “My mother slapped me, and my step-father physically picked me up and tossed me out. Then he spat on me. Family isn’t about blood. It’s about love.”

“I– I’m sorry.” Niall breathes out, even more shocked by Harry’s confession. “I can’t even imagine that. I never really had a relationship with my mother or brother, so it didn’t hurt that much when they cut me off. I can’t even begin to guess what I would have done if my da had rejected me.”

“I don’t know what my father would have thought.” Harry says quietly. “I haven’t seen or spoken to him since I was seven. My sister is good, though. She’s amazing, and she’s all the family I need.”

“Have you spoken to your mother or step-father since?” Niall asks him.

“Can’t.” Harry says, rubbing his palms along the lines of his shins and looking at the grass between his feet instead of up at Niall. “They died two days afterwards. Car crash on the way to their solicitor’s office to cut me out of the will. That was the last time I ever spoke to them. Since they died before signing the new will, I got half of their money anyways. Then I gave it all to charities. Wasn’t the brightest move, in the end, but I was eighteen and didn’t want anything to do with their memories.”

“I don’t know how you’re the way that you are after all that.” Niall says quietly.

“I wasn’t for a long, long time.” Harry mutters. “It took a lot of bad decisions to get me to a good place. Conan basically saved me, because I was spiraling until he came along. My sister was supposed to foster him with her boyfriend, but then they broke up, and she asked me to help take care of him. I spent a lot of time seeing what it was like to help other people instead of myself by working with the trainers here to raise him, and I realized I didn’t want to keep living only for myself anymore. I cleaned up my act, and here I am.”

“I’d have never guessed you had a tragic backstory, based on how you act.” Niall mumbles.

“There’s an old saying about books and covers.” Harry snorts.

“I know that.” Niall huffs. “I mean, I didn’t assume you’re gay, even though you’re so swishy.”

“Well, if I’m not, then I have a lot of explaining to do.” Harry giggles. “Because I have had a lot of sex with a lot of blokes for a straight man.”

“Amazing how you can dry up every ounce of sympathy I had for you in two sentences.” Niall scoffs.

“Good.” Harry smirks. “I don’t want your sympathy.”

“Good.” Niall echoes. “Because you’re not getting it anymore. And you should probably re-familiarize yourself with that saying about books and covers, since you assumed that I’m gay the first day I was here.”

“Well, I was right, so does it really matter?” Harry asks with a wide grin.

“Actually- Yes.” Niall decides. “What made you assume that? Nobody ever thinks I’m gay until I tell them. Some people don’t even believe me when I do.”

“Well, a big part of it was the whole part where I thought you and Louis were together.” Harry points out.

“If that’s the big part, then what’s the rest?” Niall asks him.

“Wishful thinking, I guess.” Harry answers with a shrug.

“Oh?” Niall asks, unable to keep his voice from squeaking a bit.

“That- I- Shit- I-” Harry stammers, flushing an even brighter red than he was after his running around. “I mean, it’s easier working with gay clients. It’s just- Needing our dogs’ services doesn’t necessarily mean a person is open-minded and accepting, you know? I just wanted my first solo-client to go smoothly.”

“Mission not accomplished.” Niall snorts, his shoulders relaxing.

“I don’t know.” Harry says with a soft smile. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

“You are just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” Niall chuckles.

“Oxford was fun, after the yelling.” Harry hums. “And I liked learning how to play poker. And I enjoyed sitting in that bus-stop and eating biscuits and jam.”

“A glutton for punishment.” Niall reaffirms.

“No, you’re just not bad company when you haven’t got your walls up quite so high.” Harry murmurs, stretching his legs back out in a V-shape.

“If you spread your legs any wider, we’re going to have a reverse version of what happened my first morning here.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“I need to let the whole area breathe.” Harry giggles. “Doesn’t get much airflow with the jeans I wear. If he ends up popping out to say hello, that’s a risk I have to take.”

Niall is pretty sure it’s not, actually. It’s really, really not.

 

“You know-” Niall drawls out, scratching lazily at his stomach and pausing for a long yawn. “I really can’t wait to get back home and never wake up to this happening ever again.”

“Shut up and eat a scone.” Louis hums. “They’re bloody fantastic.”

“I thought we settled on just the coffee.” Niall sighs, taking the cup when Harry hands it off to him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t buy them.” Harry says with a shrug. “I made them.”

“When?” Niall asks incredulously. “You were here pretty late last night, and it’s only-”

“Nearly ten.” Louis interjects. “Harry thought it would be nice if we let you sleep until you woke up on your own.”

“Oh.” Niall mumbles sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harry says with a soft smile. “You should really try the scones, though. They’re kind of amazing, if I do say so myself.”

“Agreed!” Louis says through a mouthful of food.

“You woke up at just the right time.” Harry adds. “I just pulled them out of the oven ten minutes ago, so they’re warm and soft.”

“You don’t have to keep trying to sell me on the scones, Harry.” Niall chuckles. “I’ll eat them.”

“Good.” Harry beams. “You go ahead and eat. I’ll feed Conan and then take him out.”

“So-” Louis says once Harry and Conan are out the door, the lilt in his voice making Niall’s eye twitch. “Looks like things have gotten better in that department. How’s the sex?”

“We’re not sleeping together.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“When I got here, he was already in the kitchen, shirtless, and making you scones.” Louis scoffs. “If you’re going to lie about it, at least make it believable.”

“He has a key, because he’s my instructor.” Niall huffs. “And he was probably shirtless because he was sweaty from running or biking here. We’re not sleeping together, Louis. We’re not even really friends. I’ve just decided to stop actively hating him, and it’s still a bit of a challenge. That’s the extent of things.”

“Choosing to stop actively hating someone is the closest you’ve come to being arse-over-tits in love since I met you.” Louis snorts.

“That doesn’t mean that it’s actually the same thing!” Niall hisses. “You know that I don’t date, Louis. I don’t date, and I don’t sleep with anyone. That didn’t change in the last week, and it definitely wouldn’t change for Harry, of all people.”

“Are you saying that you don’t find him attractive?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrow curiously.

“He’s a kid, Louis.” Niall mutters. “He’s all hopeful and bright eyed. You’ve seen his hair, for God’s sake. He just– He’s a kid, and that counteracts whatever appeal he could possibly have to me. And it wouldn’t matter anyways, because that part of my life is over. Nobody wants the freak with one leg and half a brain, and- And I don’t want anyone. I don’t need anything like that, especially with someone like Harry.”

“Niall-” Louis starts, getting cut off by the door opening and Conan bounding over towards Niall.

“That’s the end of the discussion, Louis.” Niall tells him. “Drop it. Now make yourself useful and shut that bloody window. It’s freezing in here.”

“I’ll get it.” Harry says quietly from the door, stepping over and shutting it while Niall turns back and focuses on his breakfast and petting Conan.

“Oh, Harry-” Niall says after a few bites.

“Yeah?” Harry asks nervously, looking up, but not meeting Niall’s eyes.

“The scones are good. Thank you.” Niall says softly.

“You’re welcome.” Harry says, the corners of his lips twitching up just a bit. “I’ll leave you guys alone to get packed, and then I’ll see you over at the facility when you’re ready to get your certification paperwork.”

“See you then.” Niall replies, closing his eyes and running his fingers through the scruff at the base of Conan’s neck, a feeling of relief flooding through him at the knowledge that this is all over. In a few hours, he can go back to living his normal life, with one new addition that he loves. Conan.

 

“My wrist hurts.” Niall whines, dropping the pen after completing the final form in a stack of paperwork several inches thick. “Why are there so many forms? I didn’t even have to go through this much paperwork to get my leg.”

“Your robot leg isn’t a living creature.” Harry chuckles. “Conan is.”

“You’re not a robot dog?” Niall asks Conan with an exaggerated gasp. “That explains all the pooping you do!”

Harry giggles at that, and Louis sighs out, “Don’t encourage him. He’ll start thinking he’s actually funny.”

“I am funny!” Niall squawks at the same time that Harry says, “He is funny.”

Louis rolls his eyes, and the man across the desk, Simon, says, “Alright then, Mister Horan- Well, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. You are that Niall Horan? The son of Bobby Horan, the head of LiveWell?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Niall says quickly, looking down at Conan. “He died last year.”

“I heard.” Simon nods. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I must have been misinformed, though. I’d heard that his son went missing and was presumed dead in-”

“Not ‘missing’.” Niall cuts him off. “Captured. But I came back. What’s that Twain quote? ‘The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Simon says sheepishly. “Please, forgive me.”

“It’s fine.” Niall mutters. “I just– Are we done here? I’d like to get Conan home and settled in as soon as possible.”

“Yes, we’re done.” Simon hums. “Harry here will take care of getting you everything that you need to take home.”

“Thank you very much, Mister Cowell.” Niall says, standing up with a bit of help from Conan.

“Oh, Niall-” Simon says just as Niall opens the door. “Your father was an extraordinary man. He helped so many people, and his work will stand as a testament to the power of one man’s ambitions. He’ll be greatly missed in the charity community.”

“I’m sure he will be.” Niall mumbles. “But he’s missed pretty badly at home, too.”

“Good luck, Niall.” Simon says quietly.

Niall doesn’t respond to that, instead walking out of the office and relying on Conan to guide him while he withdraws in on himself. He needs a minute, just a second to clear his head and breathe before the guilt and the pain can take hold of him and drag him down. He’s leaving Louis behind to handle everything, which is a really shitty thing to do, but he needs to be outside where he can breathe again.

“Niall, are you okay?” Harry asks, his hand a gentle pressure on Niall’s shoulder when he finds the blond a minute later, without Louis apparently, given the fact that there aren’t a hundred concerned questions flying his way.

“I’m fine.” Niall breathes out, shaking his head. “What’s Simon Cowell doing here? Last I heard, he was the head of UK operations for the Red Cross. What’s he doing working with a startup like All Dogs go to Heaven?”

“He’s on the board.” Harry explains. “I’ve never even heard of him making an appearance here, because he’s more about legitimizing our operation, and less about oversight. My guess is that it could be because you were my first solo client, and he might have wanted to keep an eye on me.”

“Do you know him?” Niall asks.

“He’s the one who got me into the charity.” Harry admits. “He knew my parents, and he helped get this place to take me on, despite some of my issues.”

“It certainly helps having friends in high places.” Niall nods. “I’m glad he did, though. I don’t think anyone else would have put up with me for longer than the first day, let alone approved me.”

“Actually, you had a much tougher sell with me than anyone else here.” Harry hums. “Letting Conan go is harder on me than it would be on anyone else.”

“Regretting your decision to approve me now?” Niall asks, trying to pass it off as a joke, though the tight ball of fear in his stomach grows heavier as he waits for his answer.

“Not at all.” Harry murmurs. “I know he’s in good hands with you.”

“Even though I’m ‘not a nice person’?” Niall questions, the words spilling from his lips before he can stop himself from digging himself deeper and deeper into this hole.

“I was out of line when I said that.” Harry mumbles. “I was lashing out to try and put some distance between us for your sake. Yeah, you can be a bit grumpy, but you’re not a bad bloke. I know you’ll be good to him. I trust you with him.”

“That’s a big vote of confidence, and I’m not sure what I did to earn it.” Niall admits.

“You fell in love with Conan the second that you met him.” Harry says with a soft smile, giving Niall’s shoulder a squeeze. “I saw it in your eyes, and I recognized it because it was the same exact way that I felt when I met him. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Depends on how gross it is.” Niall chuckles. “If you’ve got a third ball or something to match your extra nipples, then I don’t want to know.”

“Shut up. They’re birth marks and I have the right number of balls.” Harry huffs. “You’re the fourth person that Conan has been matched with, and I made sure that the other three didn’t get to take him home and were re-matched with other dogs instead. They weren’t going to love him like you do, and he didn’t really like them like he does with you. I want to help people, yeah, but I also need to know that he’s going to be happy and loved, and I know that he will be with you. You’re the only one that I could trust with him, and I knew it from the moment you two met. I knew that I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.”

“I’ll take care of him.” Niall says firmly. “I’m not good for much, but I’ll be good for him.”

“I, um– I was wondering if you might like to-” Harry starts, only to be cut off by Louis erupting from the door with a groan.

“Thanks a lot, you twats, for making me carry all of this shite myself.” Louis hisses, carrying a massive tub packed full of all kinds of things. There’s dog food and toys and that scoop Harry mentioned back on Niall’s first full day at the facility, among other things.

“Here.” Harry mumbles, stepping away from Niall to take the tub out of Louis’ arms. “Lead the way to your car.”

“You’re lucky I parked close.” Louis grumbles, heading past Niall into the carpark. “I would have brought Bressie if I knew there was going to be so much lifting involved.”

“Fitting Bressie with the two of us and Conan all in your bloody Twingo would have been like trying out for the circus.” Niall snorts. “If anything, it should have been just Bressie coming down to get me.”

“We are so not stopping on the way home for ice cream now.” Louis huffs.

“Oh no.” Niall says dryly. “Whatever will I do? Woe is me.”

“Why are you such an ungrateful sod?” Louis sighs. “You don’t appreciate me properly at all.”

“You should probably find a boyfriend if you want to be appreciated.” Niall hums.

“Bite me.” Louis scoffs. “I happen to have a date tonight.”

“Oh?” Niall asks in surprise.

“Yeah.” Louis says quietly. “At least, I think it’s a date. I don’t know. Fuck. I’m meeting up with a guy for drinks, and it may or may not be a date.”

“I, uh- I kind of thought you were staying with me today.” Niall mumbles.

“I will be.” Louis nods. “We have a lot to discuss, and I’m not meeting up with him until nine. I’ll leave from yours to meet him.”

“So that’s what you’re wearing on a date?” Niall asks teasingly.

“Don’t you start with me.” Louis growls, narrowing his eyes at Niall as he unlocks the boot. “I spent all night picking out this outfit.”

“Just taking the piss, Tommo.” Niall assures him. “Let’s just get on the road, and then we’ll get back to mine and play on the Wii until you destress.”

“You and that damn game.” Louis snorts, taking the tub from Harry and shoving it unceremoniously in the boot. “But, yeah, I guess that sounds like a plan.”

“Wow, you guys are so exciting.” Harry giggles.

“And what are you doing that’s so thrilling?” Niall asks.

“Well, I’ll probably go to the graduation party with the rest of the staff, and then I’ll probably go home and watch ‘Lilo and Stitch’.” Harry hums. “It’s Conan’s favorite film.”

“I’ll make sure to add it to my collection, then.” Niall nods.

“You should have it anyways.” Harry grins. “The soundtrack is good for the heart.”

“You just did it again, didn’t you?” Niall asks. “The Elvis thing.”

“Maybe.” Harry muses. “You’re just guessing though, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” Niall says playfully, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t matter if I knew it or not. I still caught you.”

“I’ll take that as a, ‘Yes, Harry, I was just guessing. You’re so wonderful and smart for figuring that out.’” Harry giggles.

“Wow, you’re more than just putting words in my mouth.” Niall scoffs. “You’re shoving them in there hand over fist at this point.”

“I, um- I’m gonna go ahead and get in the car now.” Louis mutters. “Bye, Harry. Thanks for keeping him alive.”

“Because I’m completely incapable of doing that all on my own.” Niall says flatly. Louis chuckles and walks away, climbing into his car and leaving Niall and Harry alone. Niall turns back to Harry, sighing and shaking his head before asking, “Do you want me to give you a minute alone to say goodbye to Conan?”

“Christ, he’s a dog, not my lover.” Harry snorts. “You can stay where you are. I’d like to say goodbye to you too.”

“I just thought you might want some privacy when you start crying.” Niall smirks.

“Why would I cry?” Harry asks, crouching down in front of Conan. “It’s not goodbye, yeah? It’s just, ‘See you later’. You’re going to a good home, and you finally get to do the job you’ve be training so long and hard to do. You’re going to be great, buddy.”

Conan leaps up onto Harry’s chest, tackling him to the ground and licking kisses all over his face while Niall cackles. They roll around on the ground for a minute, each trying to pin the other, but eventually it end up with Harry on his knees, hugging Conan around the neck.

Niall barely hears it when Harry whispers, “I love you so much, and I’m going to miss you. Be a good boy, okay?”

“I could set up like– a facetime chat for you sometimes, if you want?” Niall offers.

“I’d like that.” Harry says quietly, a small smile trying to pull at his trembling lips. It doesn’t quite make it though. He stands up and holds out a scrap of paper that he digs out of his pocket, mumbling, “Here’s my number. If you ever- If you need anything, call me. Whether it’s about Conan, or– If you want to talk or anything else. I’ll always pick up.”

“Alright.” Niall nods, tucking the scrap in his pocket. “I’ll, uh– I’ll text you to let you know when we’ve gotten back to mine, that way I don’t ruin your fun at the party by leaving you worrying, yeah?”

“Thank you.” Harry breathes out. “That’ll help.”

“Thank you for all of this.” Niall says quietly. “For putting up with me and thinking enough of me to trust me with Conan. Just– Thank you.”

He holds his hand out to shake Harry’s, but the other lad ignores it and pulls Niall into a tight hug that he definitely doesn’t expect, murmuring, “See you around, Niall.”

“See you around, Harry.” Niall says stiffly, reaching one arm up and patting Harry on the back.

“Thanks for trying that for me.” Harry chuckles, stepping back away from Niall. “Sorry about invading your personal space. I’m a hugger.”

“It’s fine.” Niall tells him. “I’m used to it. Louis is a hugger too. Speaking of Lou, we should get on the road. The sooner we start talking, the sooner it can be over and done with. The longer I keep him waiting, the higher the chance he’ll say a bunch of stupid shite just to piss me off.”

“For Conan’s sake, try not to strangle him until you’ve gotten home, alright?” Harry requests with a weak smile. “Can’t have him swerving off the road.”

“Deal.” Niall hums. “Goodbye, Harry.”

“Not ‘goodbye’.” Harry says softly. “Just ‘see you later.’”

“See you later, then.” Niall nods. “Come on, Conan. Time to go.”

“See you later, boys.” Harry says, opening up the rear door for Conan to hop in. He presses a kiss to Conan’s forehead, and then closes the door, biting at his lip before asking, “Are you sure you guys don’t want to stay for the party?”

“Not my scene.” Niall snorts. “Besides, I’m pretty sure nobody would want me there. Didn’t exactly go around making friends with everyone.”

“I’d want you there, but I get it.” Harry mumbles. “Home is where the heart is.”

“Caught you.” Niall grins. “Saw ‘Kid Galahad’ on a flight once.”

“A true classic.” Harry giggles. “Conan likes that one too, so you should add it to your collection as well.”

“I guess I should just go ahead and buy all of his films, shouldn’t I?” Niall asks.

“I recommend it.” Harry nods. “But I might be a bit biased.”

“I’ll add it to the list of things I need to get when I get home.” Niall decides. “But, if they’re terrible, I’m going to live-text you my angry reactions.”

“I think I can handle that.” Harry says with a smile. “Now go ahead and get out of here before I start feeling guilty for keeping you from your Wii-date with Louis.”

“Good idea.” Niall nods. “I have to kick his arse in video games occasionally, or else I’ll do it in real life. Bye- See you around.”

“See you around.” Harry echoes. He opens up the passenger door and then closes it after Niall climbs in, stepping back to wave at them as Louis backs up and drives away.

“Are we going to talk about what happened back there with Simon?” Louis asks once they’re properly on their way.

“No point.” Niall mutters. “The conversation always goes the same way. You act like it’s not my fault, and I know it is. Neither of us are going to change our positions, so why bother?”

“Because it isn’t your fault, and I’m hoping that, if I say it enough, that’ll sink into your brain.” Louis sighs.

“He had a heart attack because he ran himself and his charity into the ground trying to find me.” Niall says with a shake of his head. “It’s my fault. Drop it, Louis.”

“Fine, then should we discuss why you and Harry said goodbye to each other three separate times before you actually got in the car?” Louis asks. “Or why I’m your therapist, but he insisted on being the one to go after you and left me to be the one carrying all your shite?”

“I promised Harry that I wouldn’t strangle you while you’re driving so that Conan isn’t put at risk, Louis.” Niall says flatly. “Don’t make me break that promise already.”

Conan starts to whine when the facility disappears from view behind them and it fully dawns on him that Harry isn’t coming with them, so Niall reaches behind his seat and strokes at the lab’s head, though he knows it can only help so much. He feels guilty about this bit too, about taking Conan away from the only family he’s ever known, but, maybe, just maybe, they can be each other’s family now.


	9. Chapter 9

“Ugh! Fuck you!” Louis groans, dropping onto the couch. “You’re cheating!”

“How would I even do that?” Niall scoffs.

“I don’t know how you’re doing it, but I know that you are.” Louis grumbles.

“You gonna keep being all pouty through your date, too?” Niall snorts, sitting down beside Louis, who’s taking a pull off of his beer. “Because most blokes don’t generally find that very appealing, and I’m thinking you want to avoid the ones who do.”

“I’m a psychiatrist, Niall.” Louis sighs. “Give me ten minutes with any guy and I’ll find some reason not to date him.”

“Just compare them to me.” Niall hums. “If they’re any more than ten percent as fucked up as I am, then toss them. Otherwise, play it by ear.”

“I’m just short of thirty.” Louis laughs. “I might need to bump that up to twenty percent just to cover my bases.”

“Stick to ten percent until you actually hit thirty.” Niall chuckles. “You’ve got to at least pretend to have standards.”

“Excuse you-” Louis growls. “I do have standards. You just don’t realize what a hassle dating is, since you refuse nearly every type of real human interaction.”

“Oh, yeah.” Niall scoffs. “That’s totally the reason. It has nothing to do with the fact that, even if, by some miracle, I found a guy who doesn’t mind dating a nutter with one leg, I’d still have to have that conversation.”

“Niall-” Louis sighs.

“Because that would make for a great first date.” Niall continues angrily. “‘Where did you last go on holiday?’ ‘Oh, Greece. It’s beautiful. You?’ ‘Me? I spent four months in a Syrian rebel camp prison cell being tortured and watching the people I was supposed to be taking care of get killed, one by one. It’s lovely in the fall.’ That sounds like it would go over real bloody well!”

“Niall-” Louis tries again, but the blond isn’t having it.

“Do you think I want to be alone all the time?” Niall asks harshly. “Do you think I want the only people who can stand being around me to be my boss, my fourth therapist, and my prosthetist? Of course not! But why would I ever want to put someone through the mess that is my life, just so I don’t have to be alone?

“Nobody understands, Louis. Nobody understands what I went through, and nobody understands me. No matter what, I will always be the freak who needs a handful of pills every day so I can pretend to be normal. I will always need wheelchairs or fake legs to get around. I will always be angry and scared and unstable. I’m not bringing anybody into that who isn’t necessary.”

“I-” Louis starts, cutting himself off this time to stand up off the couch. “I need to go if I want to make it to my date on time.”

“Probably a good idea.” Niall mutters.

Louis heads for the door, but stops when he reaches it and says, “People are necessary, Niall. We need other people in our lives. You need to stop treating the rest of us like we’re just tools that you’re being forced to use. It’s not fucking fair to act like the people who care about you are just here because we’re obligated to be. We want to be a part of your life, and I’m sure that there’s other people out there who would want to, too, if you’d just fucking let someone in for once.”

He wrenches the door open and slams it shut before Niall can even think of a way to respond. Niall grabs Louis’ bottle of beer, picks it up to throw it against the wall and rage, but Conan is too quick. He hops up from his place at Niall’s feet, filling up the blond’s senses by shoving his face against Niall’s affectionately.

“Don’t think anyone head-butting me has ever calmed me down before.” Niall snorts, bringing his hands up to scratch along Conan’s neck once he sets the bottle down. “Do you need to go outside?”

Conan answers by lowering his head into Niall’s lap and letting out a long sigh, something he’s been doing all night. Whenever Niall needs help with anything, Conan is right there, eager and willing to help, but he’s been moping whenever he hasn’t got anything to do. It’s obvious that he misses Harry, and Niall’s already disappointed Louis tonight. He doesn’t want to add anyone else to that list.

He reluctantly pulls out his mobile, finding Harry’s number in the facetime app and sighing deeply himself before pressing the call button.

It takes a few seconds, but Harry eventually answers with, “Niall? Is something wrong? Is it Conan? Is he hurt? Is-”

“Christ, no.” Niall cuts him off. “He just misses you, I think. He’s been depressed all night, and I thought it might help if he could, you know– See you. Why did you reject video mode?”

“I’m, uh- I’m not really in a state to be seen by anyone at the moment.” Harry mumbles.

“Oh god.” Niall groans, a thought hitting him like a train. “Did I call you in the middle of a shag or something? Christ. I’m sor-”

“No!” Harry squawks. “No, no, no! That’s definitely not what’s happening.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone who sounded quite so offended at someone thinking they’re having sex.” Niall chuckles. “What did I do, then? Interrupt a wank session?”

“Nobody’s dick is being touched here, Niall.” Harry huffs. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Absolutely not.” Niall snorts. “There’s probably a damn good chance that I’ll laugh my arse off if it’s something that’s got you this embarrassed.”

“Ugh, fine.” Harry sighs. “I’ll turn on the camera, but only for Conan. Put him on instead.”

“Christ.” Niall mutters, kicking out the little stand on his case so that he can set it down on the table, and turning it away from himself towards Conan. “There you go.”

“Hey, boy!” Harry coos, his voice suddenly much louder as the call switches to video. 

Niall leans back against the couch, content to play tennis on the Wii while Conan and Harry spend some time having a one sided conversation. But, of course, things don’t go the way that Niall thought they would. They so rarely do.

Conan perks up at the sound of Harry’s voice, but then he starts whimpering and spinning around in circles. The kicker is when he knocks over Niall’s mobile with his nose and lets out something caught between a whine and a howl.

“What the hell did-” Niall starts, looking down at the screen before cutting himself off. “What happened to your face? It looks like someone shat on you.”

“It’s an avocado and banana face mask.” Harry huffs.

“Why is it brown?” Niall asks incredulously.

“I might have forgot I had it on, because I got caught up in ‘Lilo and Stitch’.” Harry sighs. “Now I can’t get it all to come off, because it dried on.”

“Christ almighty.” Niall mutters, looking up towards his ceiling and shaking his head. “This is what I get for pissing Louis off. This is my punishment.”

“I’m the one peeling dried banana, avocado and egg off of my face.” Harry grumbles. “How are you the one being punished?”

“Because I have to put up with your weird shit for Conan.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t think he wants to be here anymore. I think he wants to go back.”

“Niall-” Harry says gently. “You have to give it more than a couple of hours.”

“He’s fucking miserable, Harry!” Niall snaps. “I make enough people miserable. I don’t want to do that to him. What– What’s the procedure for returning him to the charity?”

“No!” Harry growls, taking Niall by surprise. “No, I didn’t spend the last year trying to find the perfect person to finally trust with him, just to have you abandon him after one fucking day!”

“Harry-” Niall starts, but apparently Harry isn’t having it. For someone who looks like his face is literally covered in shit, he’s also kind of terrifying when he’s pissed off.

“No!” Harry says again, the force of it so strong that Niall is glad for the fact that Harry is on a screen, rather than here in the room. There’s a good chance he’d slip into an episode with the intensity radiating off of Harry if it were happening in person. “He deserves a chance, Niall! You can’t give up on him after less than twelve hours!”

“Fine! Jesus!” Niall hisses, dropping the mobile back on the table. Conan climbs back up into Niall’s lap, and Niall says, “I don’t know why I even fucking bother. I was just trying to spare you from having to deal with me, but apparently every fucking thing I do is wrong. Won’t be doing that again any time soon. Don’t want to deal with him again anyways. A half decent face doesn’t make up for being an annoying twat.”

“You know that you didn’t actually hang up, right?” Harry’s voice filters through the speaker. “And that I can hear everything you’re saying?”

“Fucking hell.” Niall groans, flipping the mobile back over and ringing off before he humiliates himself again. “Come on. Let’s take you out to shit, and then we’ll just call it an early night, yeah? Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe I’ll figure out how to not to be a massive disappointment to you anymore. Chances are shite, knowing my luck, but maybe I’ll figure something out.”

Conan just slinks off of Niall’s lap, insisting on helping him up before he trots off towards the door that leads to the garden. Niall lets him out and then sighs when his mobile starts ringing. He’s programmed special ringtones for the important people in his life – ‘Hotel California’ by the Eagles for Bressie, because he actually likes Bressie. ‘Born to Run’ by Bruce Springsteen is the one for Liam, since he has a twisted sense of humor. And Louis gets ‘Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked’ by Cage the Elephant, because it pisses him off – And this call isn’t playing any of those, just the default tone, so Niall ignores it.

It’s probably Harry anyways, and Niall has no desire to speak to the younger lad at the moment. Ever again, really, but there are sacrifices he’ll have to make for Conan’s sake. Talking to Harry right now is not one of them.

The call ends, and a few moments later there’s the ding that lets him know that he has a new voicemail. Conan takes his time to do his business, unfortunately, which means that Niall has to listen to two more renditions of ‘Marimba’ and the ensuing voicemail notifications before Harry finally gives up. He’s definitely the fucking stubborn one.

He leaves his mobile in the living room once he heads to the bedroom with Conan, just in case Harry tries again. He goes through his nightly routine, trying to relax and let the ball of guilt sitting tight in his stomach loosen up. He knows, though. He knows that he shouldn’t have done all of this. He’s not going to be good enough for Conan in the end. He’s not even good enough for Conan now, which is making the lab miserable.

He crawls into bed after taking off his leg and pulls the duvet up to his chin, ready for the day to just be over. It’s not until Conan’s cold nose presses against the bottom of his foot that he realizes that he didn’t invite the lab to join him. He pats the bed next to him, and Conan is there in a flash, lying down as close to Niall as he can get and resting his head on the blond’s chest.

It makes that ball in his gut feel just a little bit lighter.

 

“Wake up, Niall.” someone says gently, their hand shaking Niall’s shoulder. He recognizes the voice after a moment of pure panic, and then relaxes immediately.

“Please tell me this is a nightmare.” Niall grumbles. “Please tell me that I’m not actually waking up to you in my bedroom. Again.”

“I have doughnuts.” Louis hums. “And coffee. And I put your mobile on the nightstand.”

“I’ll be down in two minutes.” Niall groans, sitting up and letting the duvet pool at his waist. “Take Conan out for me?”

“Sure.” Louis snorts. “Anything else I can do for you, your majesty?”

“Yeah.” Niall huffs, blinking at the clock and squinting until the numbers come into focus. “You can go ahead and fuck yourself. It’s not even eight yet, Tommo. What the fuck? Didn’t I deal with enough of this early wakeup shite with Harry?”

“I figured you’d want them hot and fresh.” Louis answers, walking out the door and whistling for Conan to follow him.

The lab, however, stays right where he is until Niall murmurs, “Go on, then. I’ll be fine.”

Conan hops out of the bed and trots off after Louis while Niall put on his glasses and unplugs Bobby from its charger. Once he wrestles his stump into the sock and puts Bobby on, he heads into the bathroom and takes care of the things he needs to before bracing himself and going to the kitchen.

He’s expecting a lecture, but Louis starts things off by saying, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Niall scoffs, taking a seat at the table. “You were right.”

“Not being incorrect isn’t the same thing as being right, Niall.” Louis sighs. “Do I believe the things that I said to you last night? Absolutely. But that’s not how that conversation should have gone. I shouldn’t have said the things that I said the way that I said them. I let my emotions about my own situation get the best of me, and that was wrong. You need someone that you can trust to keep a level head, not someone who loses it because they’re nervous about a date. 

“What I said was out of line, because I know why you’re the way that you are. I know why you don’t like interacting with people. I know why you don’t trust people. I know why you fight anyone and everyone who cares for you, or who you care for. I know these things. I know your guilt and your fear, and I turned that against you, which is never okay under any circumstances, let alone for your therapist. And I know that what I did was awful, but I hope that I can find some way to earn your-”

“You’re forgiven.” Niall cuts him off. “Shut up and give me anything with chocolate on and-or in it.”

“Niall-” Louis breathes out, looking well and truly taken aback. “Why?”

“Because, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m kind of short on people who give enough of a fuck about me to stick around through my shite.” Niall says quietly. “I have a habit of pissing people off and pushing them away. After last night, I was down to two, so if I can bump that back up to three by forgiving you for calling me out on my shit, I’ll take it.”

“I’m guessing the other one was Harry?” Louis says quietly.

“What gave it away?” Niall mutters.

“I tried calling you to let you know I was here, since I know that you hate when I use my key.” Louis tells him. “Then I heard your mobile through the door, so I knew you must have left it in the living room, and when I grabbed it to bring it to you, it lit up and told me you had five missed calls and five voicemails, all from Harry.”

“Five?” Niall asks incredulously, taking out his mobile and looking to confirm. “Christ, it was at three last night. He must have called again this morning.”

“What happened?” Louis asks.

“I called him because Conan was miserable last night, and I thought seeing and hearing Harry might help, but– Things didn’t go well.” Niall mumbles. “I asked him about the procedure for returning Conan to-”

“What?” Louis squawks. “What the fuck? Why?”

“Because he hates it here.” Niall whispers, closing his eyes and curling his fists tight. “I can’t keep him here if he’s going to be miserable. I can’t. You know why I can’t.”

“Niall-” Louis says gently, reaching across the table and placing his hand over one of Niall’s.

“I– I spent months in there, Louis!” Niall chokes out. “I can’t do that to him! I can’t trap him somewhere he doesn’t want to be. That would– That would make me as bad as them!”

“Never.” Louis says firmly. “Niall, he’s transitioning to a new environment. You can’t just decide that he’s miserable when he’s only been here for less than a day.”

“You saw him yesterday.” Niall says through clenched teeth. “He had no energy. He barely ate. He barely moved.”

“Niall, he barely ate because you let him eat a whole burger and a large packet of chips an hour before you tried to feed him.” Louis points out. “And he barely moved because the two of us sat there playing on the fucking Wii the whole time. Did you try taking him on a walk?”

“No.” Niall admits.

“Then you realize what you were doing, yeah?” Louis asks. “You were projecting, Niall. You took your own feelings of discomfort and worry, and you projected them onto Conan. You jumped to conclusions without bothering to try and see things for the way they are.”

“Fuck.” Niall sighs. “You really think he’s not miserable?”

“I think he’ll need a few days to adjust to a completely new lifestyle, but, yeah, I think he’s generally pretty content.” Louis answers gently, giving Niall’s hand a squeeze. “And I think you shouldn’t feed him McDonald’s anymore. Anything greasy, really. The crap he took was nasty.”

“Oh thanks.” Niall scoffs. “I haven’t even eaten yet. I don’t want to think about greasy dog shit.”

“Still want that chocolate-glazed?” Louis hums, making Niall sputter out something between a laugh and a groan while Louis tries to shove a doughnut in his mouth.

 

“I feel like there’s a joke in here somewhere.” Louis chuckles. “Two gay guys and a dog walk into a hardware store- I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but I’ve got a few ideas. I’ll get it soon.”

“I’m trembling with anticipation.” Niall says dryly. “Like a virgin.”

“Don’t.” Louis says flatly. “We’ve already gotten a few stares. If I break into a Madonna medley, someone is going to kill us both with one of those- hitting stick things.”

“A hammer?” Niall asks incredulously, narrowing his eyes at Louis. “Seriously, could you be any gayer?”

“Do you want me to try?” Louis asks back, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. “Because I’ve never actually done like- Full drag. I think I could probably cobble something together by two days from now when you start sessions again though. I’ve got some friends who could help get me ready. I’ll have to go shopping for heels right after this, though.”

“As if you need any help making your arse look bigger.” Niall snorts.

“Don’t be jealous because I’m servin’ cake.” Louis laughs. “Besides, you’ve got a half-decent arse.”

“You should have seen it back when I could still do squats.” Niall sighs. “Could have bounced a quarter off of it. Easily as nice as yours.”

“Liar.” Louis scoffs.

“No, I’m serious.” Niall insists. “I had a great arse pre-imprisonment. It’s the thing I miss the fifth most, right behind my da, my friends, my leg and my sanity.”

“You are the darkest motherfucker I know.” Louis says, shaking his head.

“Spent four months in the dark.” Niall returns. “Must have sunk in.”

“You know that it’s okay to use humor as a coping mechanism, as long as it isn’t actually just a way of deflecting your real feelings, yeah?” Louis asks.

“Remind me why you’re even here again?” Niall huffs.

“Because I’m saving you an arse load of money on delivery fees by hauling your crap in my car, since you insist on doing this yourself instead of paying someone to do it like a normal person.” Louis hums.

“I can drive.” Niall grumbles. “They just won’t let me drive.”

“Yeah, that happens when you can be triggered by a laundry list of things, and you’re missing a leg to boot.” Louis points out. “Now let’s go get one of those slammer things.”

“Okay, you have to be kidding.” Niall scoffs.

“Of course I am.” Louis grins. “Come on. I may not be particularly handy, but I know the basics of all of this crap just like any other person. Are you sure you know how to build this toileting run, though?”

“I spent a summer with Habitat for Humanity back in uni.” Niall explains. “And my da insisted on us always doing our own handiwork. This is just an enclosed fence. I’ll be fine.”

“What about your leg?” Louis asks.

“Funnily enough, there’s not a lot of leg work in building a fence.” Niall snorts. “Bobby will be fine for helping me lay everything out, and I can use the chair if I need to be at crouching height.”

“Okay, according to the prices on these kits, you’re not really going to be saving yourself a lot of money here, Niall.” Louis says quietly.

“It’s not about the money.” Niall admits. “It’s about doing something with my hands again, besides playing the Wii or filing for Bressie.”

“Or wanking.” Louis giggles.

“Or beating you bloody with a hammer.” Niall says flatly.

“Or wanking.” Louis repeats. “I said it twice because you do it a lot.”

“I do not.” Niall huffs. “I barely do it at all. Sexual frustration is very low on my list of frustrations. And you’re on the list twice, because you frustrate me a lot.”

“D’ya get off to Harry?” Louis asks with a devilish smirk. “I mean, you’re the one that said he has a gorgeous face, and you’ve admitted he has a hot body, so-”

“Half-decent!” Niall hisses. “I said he has a half-decent face and that he’s strong enough to move furniture! Don’t go twisting my words!”

“Why won’t you admit that you’re attracted to him?” Louis questions.

“Because I’m bloody not!” Niall growls. “Why is it so hard to believe that for you?”

“I just think you two have chemistry.” Louis says with a shrug.

“I don’t have chemistry with anyone.” Niall grumbles. “Because I hate everyone.”

“Should I bother waiting for the obligatory ‘except you, Tommo’?” Louis asks, a smile playing on his lips.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you.” Niall hums. “Now get out of my way. I need to get to those kits.”

“I’ll get them.” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “You go get the fast setting concrete.”

“I’m not doing concrete.” Niall scoffs. “Fuck that. This is a fenced area for the dog to dump out. It’s not for my house. I don’t need it to last twenty years. I can re-do it in a few years if it needs done.”

“Or you could just pay someone to do it now and never have to deal with it again.” Louis counters. “Take a pottery class if you want to work with your hands.”

“If you’re not going to help, then at least stop criticizing all of my decisions, Louis.” Niall grumbles. “I’m doing this my way.”

“Well, I hope you don’t expect me to dig any holes, because that’s not going to happen.” Louis mutters. “Just got a manicure two days ago, and I’m not ruining it.”

“As if I’d ever let you help me build anything.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“Wait!” Louis gasps. “Digging a hole! I’ve got it! Two gay guys and a dog walk into a hardware store, right? So-”

Niall immediately tunes out and just hopes nobody overhears this likely obscenely filthy joke while they’re still here. Better yet, that he doesn’t have to hear this likely obscenely filthy joke when there are so many ways to kill Louis within arm’s reach.


	10. Chapter 10

“What?” Niall yells, wrenching the door open to stop the incessant ringing of his doorbell. Normally people get the gist after a minute or two, but Niall has been hearing the bloody thing from his garden for the last ten minutes, and he’s going to kill whoever is on the other side. Except, where he was expecting a salesman or religious nutter, someone familiar is standing there instead. “Harry?”

“Surprise?” Harry says weakly.

“What the bleeding hell are you doing here?” Niall asks.

“First home visit.” Harry mumbles.

“‘Home visit?’” Niall questions. “What do you mean ‘home visit’?”

“Niall, did you ever pay attention to anything that anyone said to you about this program?” Harry sighs.

“More or less, but I definitely don’t remember anything about home visits.” Niall groans.

“I’ll be here twice a week for the next month, then once a week for three months after that, and then once a month for the next eight, after which we’ll move to twice a year.” Harry explains. “We assess how each partnership is doing on a regular basis, both for Conan’s sake, and for yours. This was all told to you in the paperwork to apply, the introductory seminar, and in your exit interview.”

“Well, shite.” Niall huffs, stepping to the side and silently cursing himself for never paying any attention to these kinds of things. “Come on in, then.”

“Have I caught you at a bad time?” Harry asks.

“I’m in the middle of something, yes.” Niall answers, heading back out to the garden.

Conan loses his shit when Harry walks through the door, bounding over and nearly tackling him to the ground. Niall rolls his eyes and lets them have their happy reunion, getting back to work on his fence. It’s taking a bit longer than he originally thought, but he’s been able to do almost everything himself. He had to call in Bressie yesterday to use the post-hole digger, but that’s all he’s needed help with so far. Turns out you actually do need two legs to use that properly with Niall’s shitty hard soil.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Niall says with a roll of his eyes while he pounds a nail through one of the pickets to attach it to the rail. “I’m ice dancing, obviously.”

“How could I be so blind?” Harry chuckles.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking around the house to make sure I’m not keeping Conan stashed in a cupboard or something?” Niall sighs.

“I’ll get to that eventually.” Harry nods. “But first, I’d like to talk to you about the other night, seeing as you never returned any of my calls or texts.”

“Did you talk to Simon?” Niall asks, dropping the hammer.

“About you wanting to return Conan? No.” Harry says quietly.

“About me, Harry.” Niall mutters. “He knows at least part of what happened to me. I know you heard the two of us. You were right there. Did you ask Simon about what happened to me?”

“No.” Harry tells him. “I told you, I don’t want to know unless you’re the one telling me, and only when you’re ready.”

“Do you remember what he said, and what my response was?” Niall asks him.

“He said that he’d heard you were missing, and you said that you were captured, not missing.” Harry says quietly.

“I was captured by a Syrian rebel group, along with nine other people who were on a trip for LiveWell.” Niall mutters, walking back towards the house. “We were kept prisoner in one small room. I was in there for four months.”

“Niall, you don’t have to tell me this if you aren’t ready.” Harry interjects.

“I do.” Niall says, shaking his head while he leads Harry and Conan inside. “Louis and I talked about it the morning after, and I realized why I said what I said to you. I realized that I let my own experiences shape the way I was interpreting Conan’s responses. I’m not telling you everything. I just need you to understand why what happened, happened.”

“Niall-” Harry starts, but Niall can’t stop. If he doesn’t get this out now, then he doesn’t know when he will.

“I was trapped, and I was terrified.” Niall rushes out. “I spent four months watching the people around me die, and never knowing if I was next. Never knowing why I was there. I spent four months suffering mentally and physically in ways that most people could never even imagine, and– And I will never be okay again. I keep people at a distance because of that, and bringing Conan into my life is a rough transition for me, because I’m constantly scared that I can’t give him the life he deserves to have.”

“Do you love him?” Harry asks.

“Of course.” Niall nods.

“Are you going to do everything in your power to give him a happy life?” Harry asks.

“Yeah.” Niall says softly. “Whatever I can.”

“Then you’re giving him the life he deserves to have, Niall.” Harry says gently, clapping his hand on the blond’s shoulder. “You’re not hurting him by keeping him here with you. He just needs time to adjust, the same as you. In a few days, things will start to smooth out.”

“I know.” Niall mumbles. “I panicked, and I reacted poorly.”

“Well, I didn’t really help with that.” Harry sighs. “I yelled at you when I should have tried talking it through with you, and that’s on me. I let my personal feelings get in the way of doing my job right. My job isn’t just about Conan. It’s about you too. It’s about being there to help you through problems exactly like this one, and I failed pretty spectacularly at that, which I only realized after you hung up on me, and then you wouldn’t call me back, so I pushed up this visit.”

“When was it supposed to be?” Niall asks.

“Tomorrow.” Harry tells him. “I would have come out here yesterday or the day before, but I was technically using my holiday time, so I couldn’t.”

“Needed a holiday after dealing with me?” Niall snorts.

“Needed a holiday after handing him over to somebody else.” Harry whispers. “It– It was a lot for me. I’ve been holed up at my sister’s place since you left the facility.”

“Thought you went to the party.” Niall hums, heading towards the kitchen.

“Nope.” Harry sighs. “I tried, but I couldn’t really get in the spirit of things, so I drove up north and crashed on Gemma’s couch and spent the last two days consuming things I really shouldn’t have. So many salty snacks that come prepackaged.”

“Nothing wrong with a bag of crisps, or five.” Niall chuckles.

“I had to guilt-run it off this morning.” Harry sighs. “That was a hassle.”

“I’m sure.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Clearly you couldn’t possibly afford a few extra calories.”

“My metabolism is slow.” Harry pouts. “I can gain a pound on my hips just looking at a pizza.”

“Yeah, well, it’s probably still better than trying to keep in shape with one leg.” Niall hums, opening up his fridge. “While I’m in the trial for this leg, I have to use only this unless it’s in the shop. I can’t get one of those flex-foot ones that lets you run.”

“How long is the trial?” Harry asks.

“Two years.” Niall sighs. “But, at the end of it, if the trial is successful, they’ll replace Bobby with a brand new copy for free. I had to put a deposit on him, but I’ll get that back either way, even if I drop out of the trial. So, if it all works, I’ll get a twenty thousand pound, state of the art bionic-leg for free. If not, I’ll be fucked and have to shop around for a new trial, since these things are insanely expensive and it would be easier to fly to the sun by flapping my arms than getting NHS to cover an advanced prosthesis.”

“That’s shit.” Harry huffs.

“Don’t get me started.” Niall tells him. “I will rant and rave for hours until you either knock me unconscious or call Louis in to calm me down. Fuck the government.”

“Not a tory fan?” Harry chuckles.

“Given half an opportunity, I’d strangle them all with my wristwatch if it wouldn’t mean ending up back in a cell for the rest of my life.” Niall mutters.

“I like the way you think.” Harry hums. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the ingredients to prove I was justified in throwing that guacamole in your face.” Niall smirks. “Unless you think you’ll need to guilt-run off my tacos.”

“No, I think they’ll be just fine.” Harry giggles.

 

“How in the hell do you make better tacos than a woman who’s from Mexico?” Harry groans.

“Because I’ve been cooking vegan since I was eight years old.” Niall explains. “My da was a hell of a man. He built a charity from the ground up. He raised me on his own. He did some things that were amazing and admirable, had a dozen talents that any man under the sun would be jealous of, but his cooking was not one of them. If I wanted food that tasted halfway decent, I had to make it myself.”

“Do you cook a lot?” Harry asks him.

“Not so much anymore.” Niall admits. “I don’t do a lot of the things that I used to like anymore. Louis says it’s not unusual for people who’ve experienced major trauma to distance themselves from things they enjoy. It’s a ‘the more you love, the more you have to lose’ mentality. I’m working on it, but it takes time. I can’t– It’s not really possible to just go back to life like it was before.”

“Is there anything that you have been able to start doing again?” Harry asks.

“I play guitar sometimes, when my boss asks me to.” Niall tells him. “And obviously I cook for myself when I need to. I just don’t really do it for fun. That’s why I eat a lot of sandwiches.”

“What else did you do?” Harry asks.

“Used to golf a lot.” Niall mumbles. “And I played footy whenever I could scare up enough people. It was a good way to pass time in the places I went with LiveWell.”

“I’ve never been golfing.” Harry hums. “We should go sometime.”

“The amputee versus the newbie. Sounds about even.” Niall snorts. “Honestly, though, all I’m concerned about right now is finishing putting up the fence out back. You can go ahead and do your thing– Take a look around, check on Conan, or ask questions– But I need to get back to it. I’ve got work tomorrow, so I need to get this done today.”

“I’ll help.” Harry offers.

“I can do it myself, Harry.” Niall tells him.

“Actually, you’re not supposed to.” Harry says sheepishly. “We gave you a list of contractors for a reason, Niall. The run has to meet certain standards, and that’s one of the things that I have to check while I’m here. If you’re going to insist on doing it yourself, I can let you slide and cover for you, but I need to know it’s up to my bare minimum standards.”

“I’m not anchoring with cement.” Niall admits.

“Fine.” Harry sighs. “We’ll just make sure that it’s really, really sturdy.”

“Why aren’t you trying to make me hire a contractor to do it?” Niall questions.

“Because you’ve clearly already put a lot of work into this.” Harry says with a shrug. “I know what the end result needs to be like to meet standards, and you must have some idea of how to build it, since you’ve gotten this far. Between the two of us, I’m pretty sure that we can figure this out.”

 

“Does it look-” Harry starts to asks, trailing off at the end.

“It’s leaning.” Niall answers. “Not, like– Just one side, either. The whole thing is just kind of tilted.”

“I blame you!” they both rush out at the same time.

“What? This is totally your fault!” Niall hisses. “You’re the one who was supposed to be holding them level!”

“And you’re the one who packed the holes!” Harry argues. “You must not have done it evenly!”

“Well, does it fucking wobble?” Niall asks, bracing his hand on a post and giving it a good, hard tug to check.

“Not at all.” Harry admits, placing both hands on the fence and shaking it hard. “I mean, it’s really sturdy. I can’t get it to budge. It’s actually in there more solidly than I’ve ever seen, even without concrete.”

“How the hell did we do that?” Niall asks, looking back and forth between the fence and Harry.

“Be-” Harry starts, but Niall cuts him off by growling out, “If you say ‘beginner’s luck’ to satisfy your Elvis fetish, I will smack you in the bollocks so hard they fly up and replace your eyeballs in their sockets.”

“We got lucky?” Harry says weakly, blanching a bit and shifting his hands from his hips to cover his whole groin area.

“Harry, is that an Elvis song?” Niall asks flatly.

“Yes.” Harry answers with a wince. “Kind of. It’s technically ‘I Got Lucky.’”

“I really want to say that I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you, but, that would be a lie, unfortunately.” Niall sighs. “But you are very high on the list in this moment.”

“Hey, I just spent my whole afternoon helping you.” Harry pouts.

“Which wouldn’t have taken nearly as long if you’d stopped dicking around and talking so much, and just focused on the work.” Niall points out. “We should have been done an hour ago, at least.”

“I was finishing up the questions that I had to ask you for this home visit, not just babbling incessantly. Do you even know the words ‘thank you’?” Harry asks incredulously.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Harry.” Niall bites out. “And you didn’t have to be here today. You chose to push this up for your own reasons. Don’t blame me for wasting your afternoon when it was your decision to come here and you insisted on doing this.”

“Oh my god, fine.” Harry sighs. “Whatever. I need to go.”

“Yeah, you do.” Niall nods. “I’ve got Liam coming over any minute, and he was actually invited.”

“I’ll be back in four days for the next visit.” Harry mutters, giving Conan a quick hug and then going back inside the house to leave while Niall stays in the garden with Conan, just so that he doesn’t have to deal with Harry for another second. 

Once he hears the front door open, he heads inside himself to grab a beer out of the fridge, and sighs when he finds Liam and Harry staring each other down in the doorway.

“One of you needs to come in, and one of you needs to leave.” Niall huffs.

“Liam.” Harry grumbles, shoving past the prosthetist without another word.

“Harry.” Liam sneers, practically slamming the door once he gets inside.

“Seriously, do you two know each other?” Niall asks. “Because you seem to hate him, and you are the only person he seems to hate.”

“No, we don’t know each other.” Liam says flatly, setting his bag down on Niall’s table. “I just recognize him, which he apparently doesn’t like. What’s wrong with you? You look pissed off.”

“He fucking showed up here, out of nowhere, and then got pissy with me for wasting his time building a fence when he’s the one who pushed up the home visit and insisted on helping with the damn thing.” Niall sighs. “He’s just– He’s so fucking bizarre and annoying. And the worst part is, it wasn’t actually that bad until like, two minutes ago. We were kind of having fun.”

“Really?” Liam asks, arching an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yeah.” Niall admits. “Watching him swing a hammer is just about the funniest damn thing I’ve ever seen, and he has all these crazy theories about Louis’ new guy, and-”

“Louis is dating someone?” Liam asks, cutting Niall off unexpectedly.

“Maybe.” Niall says with a shrug. “He went out for drinks the other night with someone, but he won’t tell me shite about it or the guy, which is really weird for him, because he’s usually all about TMI. I know more about the dicks he’s sucked than their urologists probably do. So when I told Harry about that, we started coming up with a bunch of, like- insane theories about why Louis is so embarrassed by this guy that he won’t tell me about him. Like that he has moose antlers or something.”

“That’s not very nice.” Liam huffs.

“No, but it was kind of fun.” Niall mumbles. “But then he went and flipped his shit because I didn’t kiss his fucking feet for helping me with the doggy run that he insisted on doing with me.”

“So he’s a diva.” Liam says with a roll of his eyes. “What did you expect from him? Honestly, I’m not surprised, considering who he is.”

“I don’t know how many charities you’ve worked with, but I’ve worked with a lot, and almost none of the people in them are divas.” Niall snorts.

“Not the charity thing.” Liam scoffs. “The famous child star thing, and all the rest of that.”

“What ‘famous child star thing’?” Niall asks.

“He was a huge star, like- five years ago, until the shit hit the fan.” Liam answers.

“What?” Niall squawks. “What are you talking about?”

“Niall, he starred in a show that was kind of like a ‘Glee’ rip off.” Liam says incredulously. “That show, ‘Best Song Ever’? He was huge, until, you know-”

“No, Liam, I don’t know.” Niall mutters. “I never really watched telly except sports. I was too busy being a naïve asshole who thought he could save the world to pay attention to pop culture.”

“Google ‘Harry Styles’, then.” Liam shrugs. “But, do me a favor, and wait until I leave.”

 

It takes Niall a full day to finally work up to googling Harry, and what he finds is not at all what he was expecting. Liam might have left out a few details about Harry’s career trajectory.

Harry started acting young, even managing to get cast in a few different West End productions when he was still just a kid, before finally breaking into telly. He had a few minor appearances here and there, but didn’t really strike gold until he managed to land a role on a show called ‘Best Song Ever’, where he played Marcel, the funny, overachieving nerd with the big voice.

And Niall is loath to admit it, but Harry was kind of adorable in his ugly sweater-vests and ridiculously large glasses. And his voice is kind of amazing, even when singing annoyingly catchy covers of pop tunes, and a few original songs.

That’s all well and good, but it’s when Niall clicks on another interview of Harry’s that he begins to understand what Liam meant when he said that the shit hit the fan for Harry.

Harry’s sitting on a couch in absurdly tight jeans and a printed t-shirt, looking a bit nervous, and more than a bit young. He’s just barely eighteen, if Niall had to guess. Rather than the billowing curtain of chestnut hair he has now, or the slicked-back style he had on the show, his hair is a dark mop of curls. His eyes are brighter and his lips are insanely pink and full, and he looks- Terrified.

“Do I– Do I just get started?” Harry stutters out.

“No.” answers a disembodied voice from somewhere off camera. “First we’ll just talk for a bit. People will want to get to know you first.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes out, ducking his head to cover a brightly flaring blush. “Okay.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, Harry.” the guy off-screen says with a laugh that clearly doesn’t help. “Nothing you haven’t done before, right?”

“Right.” Harry mumbles.

“Just relax. Get comfortable.” the guy tells him. “We’ll get to the good stuff eventually. But why don’t you tell us a little about yourself first?”

“’M Harry.” he says quietly, looking back up into the camera. “A lot of you might know me from the show, ‘Best Song Ever’, or from the recent news about me. I’m eighteen. Just turned eighteen a few weeks ago, actually.”

“Did you have a big party?” the guy asks.

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “It was pretty big. Got a bit crazy.”

“You get a bit drunk?” the guy questions.

“More than a bit.” Harry says sheepishly. “But no hangover.”

“Enjoy that while it lasts.” the guy laughs. “Why don’t you go ahead and take your shirt off for us, Harry?”

What? What kind of fucking interview is this?

“O-Okay.” Harry stutters, standing up off of the couch and pulling his shirt off over his head. “Just the shirt, or-”

“You’re a bit eager, aren’t you?” the guy snorts. “If you want to take off your trousers, you can do that too. Leave your pants on for now, though.”

Holy shitting fuck. Niall looks up to the top of the video and actually pays attention to the title this time, reading, ‘Harry Styles introduction for Étalon Studios’, and blanches. It’s porn. Harry’s doing fucking porn.

“What kind of guys do you like, Harry?” the guy asks him, pulling Niall’s attention back to the video where Harry is now sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of tight, black Calvin Kleins.

“Older guys mostly, I guess.” Harry says with a shrug. “I like all kinds of guys, but I really like a guy who’s a bit more experienced. One who knows how to take care of me.”

“Are you a top or a bottom?” the guy questions.

“Both.” Harry mumbles. “I’m– What’s the word? Versatile. Depends on the guy I’m with. I’m pretty much up for anything.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” the guy laughs, and Niall almost gags at the lecherous tone in his voice. “What do you like in bed?”

“I– I could show you, rather than just talk about it.” Harry answers, and that’s where the video ends.

Niall thanks god for that, wondering how even that much managed to get put up on YouTube and not get taken down. It must be because there’s no actual nudity, not that that seems to deter the tens of millions of hits the video has gotten since it was posted five years ago. Niall can’t bring himself to read the comments on the video, but he does go up to his search bar and type in Harry’s name.

The image search doesn’t show much of anything other than Harry in various TV shows, mostly ‘Best Song Ever’, and a lot of red carpet and candid pictures. When Niall turns off the safe-search feature, that all changes, and he has to close out of his browser immediately as pictures of Harry in every position imaginable flood his screen.

His stomach is queasy for the rest of the day, even though he tries to ignore the images that flash through his mind of Harry on his hands and knees, or on his back, or with his mouth and hands and arse all full at the same time. It makes him sick just thinking about it, about Harry being used like that. Especially when he was so young. 

And, what’s worse, is that he doesn’t know if he would have stopped watching the video if it hadn’t ended where it did. He refuses to look up anything else again, knows he can stop himself from doing that much, but he’s just not sure that he would have closed out the window if it had kept going, and that thought haunts him.


	11. Chapter 11

“You’re unusually quiet today.” Bressie hums, taking a seat across from Niall in the break room. “Bad day?”

“No, I’m fine.” Niall mumbles. “Just the normal amount of anxiety. It’s manageable.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Bressie asks. “Another fight with Louis?”

“He’s bringing me lunch, so I hope not.” Niall snorts. “God only knows what he’d do to my pasta.”

“You’re avoiding the question, boyo.” Bressie points out. It’s not judgmental or frustrated, but rather disappointed, which seems all the worse somehow when it’s Bressie.

“Am I a bad person?” Niall asks weakly. “Like– I know I’m an arsehole, and I’ve done some bad, or even unforgivable, things. I’m not stupid. But am I a bad person?”

“I would reckon you’ve put more goodwill out into the world than most people combined, Niall.” Bressie says gently. “You’re a bit of a wanker sometimes, and a straight up cunt others, but you’re definitely not a bad person. A bad person wouldn’t even think to question if they were. Why do you ask?”

“Because I know something about someone, and telling them that I know it will probably make them uncomfortable, at the very least, if not humiliate them completely, but not telling them feels like I’m being awful.” Niall sighs.

“What secrets are you keeping?” someone asks behind Niall, making him flinch. “You have to tell me.”

“Shut the goddamn hell up, Louis.” Niall groans, rolling his eyes when Louis slides into the chair next to him with a pout.

“All you need to remember is this-” Bressie says softly. “It’s about intention. If you’re keeping this a secret because you’re trying not to hurt them, then that’s not a bad thing. There are some things that people want to leave in the past, and it’s okay to let them stay there, unless it’s running the risk of hurting someone now. Is not saying anything going to get them into trouble?”

“No.” Niall admits.

“Then I wouldn’t say anything.” Bressie tells him, standing up from the table. “I’ll let you two get to it. Just have him back to me in an hour, doc. I need someone to do a few background runs for a client on a single-take, and they like him for it.”

“Who’s the client?” Louis asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Have I ever answered that question for you before?” Bressie asks flatly.

“What do I have to do?” Louis whines. “Suck your dick? Because I’ll do it.”

“Roz would have your head.” Niall snorts. “Besides, if Bress was going to shag a bloke, it would totally be me, right Bress?”

“I am not answering that question.” Bressie scoffs, turning and walking away while shaking his head and muttering, “Fucking nutters.”

“I would hit that in a second.” Louis says, leaning over until he’s almost falling out of his chair to watch Bressie go. “God damn, he’s fine. Shame about his hetero-proclivities.”

“If you ever tried to get with Bressie, I would have to murder you. You know that, right?” Niall grumbles.

“Jealous?” Louis smirks.

“No.” Niall huffs. “I’d just like to keep the ‘you’ part of my life from mixing with the rest of it. I’d never be able to look at either of you again if you slept together. It would be weird as fuck.”

“Wow, thanks.” Louis scoffs.

“I have, like- three people, Louis.” Niall sighs. “Even if two of them sleeping together somehow managed to not gross me out, it could still end badly and leave me stuck in the middle. I don’t feel like it’s too much to ask for you not to sleep with the other guys in my life.”

“Wait, you said ‘three’.” Louis says, narrowing his eyes. “Who’s out? Harry, or Liam?”

“Harry.” Niall mutters.

“Is he who your secret is about?” Louis asks, setting a bag on the table and taking out two containers of pasta.

“Yes.” Niall admits. “But that doesn’t have anything to do with it. I just don’t think we can be friends. I tried, but-”

“Bullshit.” Louis cuts him off. “Not being a total arsehole to him for one day is not ‘trying’, Niall. It’s meeting the bare minimum standards for civil conduct.”

“It’s not just one day, you knob.” Niall growls. “He came over to my house yesterday and pitched a fit at me for not thanking him over something that he chose to do.”

“Was he helpful?” Louis asks.

“Marginally.” Niall huffs.

“Was he nice?” Louis questions.

“Up until his diva moment.” Niall nods, resigning himself to being chastised for being a brat by Louis Tomlinson, which is basically a bitch slap in the face by reality.

“Then why didn’t you just thank him?” Louis asks. “The rest of us are used to it, but Harry isn’t. And if he’s going to be working with you for a while to come, maybe you should try not treating him like you do the rest of us.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Niall asks harshly.

“It means that, in the entire time that we’ve worked together, you haven’t once thanked me for anything that I have ever done for you.” Louis sighs. “Never. Not one thing, big or small, has ever gotten a ‘thank you’ out of you that wasn’t completely sarcastic. And that’s fine, because I don’t do what I do for thanks, but you can be a really ungrateful sod, Niall. I love you so much, but it’s true. And, I bet if I asked Bressie, he’d say the same thing. In fact, the only person I have ever heard you thank for anything was Harry.”

“Are you serious?” Niall asks, his indignance deflating out of him in the wake of Louis’ confession. “Tommo– Louis, you have to know that I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I do.” Louis nods. “But that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be nice to hear a ‘thank you’ every now and then. And Harry doesn’t know you like I know you. He doesn’t understand why you’re so pulled in on yourself and why you keep everyone and everything at a distance, because you haven’t told him what happened to you.”

“I, uh– I actually did tell him a bit.” Niall admits.

“You did?” Louis asks, trying – and failing miserably – to mask his surprise. His eyebrows shoot into his hairline, and they don’t look like they’re coming back any time soon.

“Not, like– A lot.” Niall mumbles “Just that I was taken prisoner and held for four months while some bad shite happened to me.”

“Still, though.” Louis breathes out. “Niall, that’s a big step. How many people have you actually told any of what happened to?”

“Nine. You, Bressie, Liam, my mother and brother, my last three therapists, and now Harry.” Niall counts off. He doesn’t count the agents who debriefed him at Vauxhall cross, because he’d been all the way out of his mind at the time and he can barely remember bits and pieces of those conversations.

“So he’s only the fifth person that you weren’t essentially obligated to tell.” Louis nods. “And how did it feel to tell him?”

“I don’t know. Like shit?” Niall sighs. “Or not. I don’t fucking know. Like- He’s the last person I ever thought I’d tell, but-”

“‘But’ what?” Louis asks.

“He didn’t pity me.” Niall whispers. “He didn’t treat me like everyone else I’ve told did afterwards, except for my mother and brother. He didn’t ask questions or tell me he was sorry for me or anything like that. He just processed the information and kept treating me the same as he had before.”

“How did that feel?” Louis questions, leaning back in his chair.

“Good.” Niall confesses. “It felt good to tell someone and not have them look at me differently afterwards.”

“Do you think you might have been on edge after telling him, and that that could have contributed to the row between you two?” Louis asks.

“Probably.” Niall mumbles. “Don’t you have a way of phrasing these questions so I don’t feel like I’m being told off by my parents?”

“I could probably do that, but I think you might need a bit of telling off.” Louis says with a shrug. “I don’t ever want you to feel ashamed, but sometimes you just need to be led into understanding your own mistakes. You’re very stubborn when left to your own devices. But, I’m really proud of you for telling him. That’s a huge step, Niall, and I can’t even begin to say how amazed I am.”

“Stop.” Niall tells him. “Just– Just stop. It’s not like I told him because I wanted to. I only did it so that he understood why I thought about sending Conan back. There’s no reason to be proud of me.”

“Niall, talking to anyone about what happened to you is a reason to be proud.” Louis says gently. “In the fourteen months since this happened to you, you’ve essentially only told five people willingly. After what happened with your mother and your brother, I’m surprised that you’ve willingly told anyone at all, but telling Bressie and Liam makes sense, because you trust them and they’re important in your life. Harry is new, and you have a strained relationship with him, at best.

“Telling him tells me that you’re moving forward. It tells me that you’re becoming more accepting about what happened, and more willing to open up about it. It tells me that you’re making progress. It tells me that you’re trying to make connections with people instead of isolating yourself behind your walls, even if it’s not necessarily successful. Those are all reasons to be proud of you, Niall.”

“If you say so.” Niall mutters. He takes the container of pasta that Louis hands him (along with a resigned sigh), and digs in, turning over Louis’ words in his head as he eats. They sit there for a while, eating in silence, until Niall finally gathers himself up enough to say, “Hey, Louis?”

“Yeah?” Louis asks.

“Thank you.” Niall mumbles.

 

“Have I ever told you that I hate you?” Niall pants out, dropping onto the floor and groaning when his stomach aches from the impact. “How can you turn yoga into a competition? How can you sleep at night when you compete against a one legged man?”

“I’m not competing against you.” Louis snorts. “You’re just not very good at this.”

“Fuck you.” Niall grunts. “Liam says I’m getting better, and he’s the one who taught it to me in the first place.”

“Can we not talk about the idea of Liam doing yoga when I’m wearing leggings?” Louis groans. “Don’t need the idea making anything happen down there.”

“You could try not wearing leggings.” Niall huffs, rolling onto his back. “It’s not as if they leave anything to the imagination anyways.”

“They’re comfortable.” Louis whines, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout.

“So are shorts.” Niall argues. “And they don’t leave me with the image of your cock imprint on the back of my eyelids for the whole day.”

“Maybe if you were getting to actually see someone’s cock, you’d stop thinking about mine all the time.” Louis hums, stretching out his legs and falling onto his back next to Niall. “Like Harry’s.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Now.” Niall huffs. He tries his best to control it, but he can feel the bright flush lighting up his skin.

“Why are you blushing?” Louis asks, a wicked grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “Are you finally going to admit that I’m right, and that you want him to fuck you up, down and sideways?”

“No!” Niall hisses. “I do not!”

“Then why are you blushing?” Louis asks again.

“We just worked out for forty-five minutes?” Niall points out, trying to pass it off. But his voice cracks just a bit and his inflection goes up at the end like a question, so he knows it doesn’t work, even before Louis’ disbelieving eye roll. “Shut up!”

“I didn’t-” Louis starts, giggling like the arsehole he is.

“Shut up!” Niall squawks, smacking at Louis’ shoulder.

“Oh my god!” Louis gasps, sitting up and staring down at Niall with so much glee in his eyes that it’s actually terrifying. “You’ve already seen his cock! When did that even happen? What were the exact circumstances? How big is he?”

“No.” Niall growls. “We are not having this conversation.”

“You’re not denying it!” Louis crows, jumping to his feet and doing some kind of poorly-coordinated jig that’s mostly an excuse to shake his arse in Niall’s face until the blond hauls back his hand and smacks it with every bit of upper-body strength that he has. Considering that he was in a wheelchair for eight of the last fourteen months, that’s a considerable amount. “Ow! Fuck! That hurt, you fucking wanker!”

“Don’t ever put your arse that close to my face again.” Niall mutters.

“Afraid Harry will get jealous?” Louis asks with a devilish grin.

“I’m not sleeping with him!” Niall groans. “I saw it online!”

“What?” Louis asks, drawing his eyebrows together. “How?”

“Shite.” Niall sighs. “I’m holding you to confidentiality, Louis.”

“Fine.” Louis says, rolling his eyes and waving his hand for Niall to continue.

“Harry was in porn.” Niall mumbles.

“Oh my god!” Louis gasps. “I knew he looked familiar! Fuck! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him! I mean, I never pay much attention to the bottoms, but-”

“No! Shut up!” Niall hisses. “I didn’t watch any of it! I don’t want to know anything about it!”

“I thought you saw his cock though?” Louis asks.

“Just- The safe search was off when I googled him, and I caught some glimpses.” Niall admits. “I mean, apparently it’s not really a secret, because he was pretty famous before he did the porn, so-”

“Oh shite.” Louis breathes out. “He was the one that had that sex tape leak, yeah? Went from being a rising star to being thrown off of his show and having his debut album stopped. I remember him now. God, I felt so shit for that kid.”

“I don’t know everything.” Niall tells him. “Liam told me to look him up, and I watched a bunch of YouTube videos of him from that show he was on, and then the next one that played was his introductory interview for this porn studio, but I didn’t know that until he stood up and took his shirt off. And they stopped before he got naked, so I didn’t see anything there. But then I looked up his name in the images search, and took off the safe search, and I saw way more than I ever wanted to, and now I don’t know if I should tell him that I know, because he seems really upset that Liam even knows who he is.”

“So he’s who you were talking to Bressie about.” Louis nods, sitting down across from Niall. “Do you want my advice?”

“No.” Niall says flatly. “I think I’m going to follow Bressie’s advice, and just not tell him. Like you said, our relationship is already strained at best.”

“Keeping secrets isn’t a way to strengthen that, Niall.” Louis says quietly. “Like it or not, he’s going to be a part of your life for a while, and you need that relationship to at least find an equilibrium. Harry has to know that there’s a chance that his clients will either already know who he is and what he’s done in his life, or will find out. You should at least consider telling him that you know.”

“No.” Niall decides. “I need there to be as little tension between us as possible, and if that means I have to keep this a secret, then that’s fine. It’s not like I’ve told him all about what happened to me. He deserves to at least think he’s gotten to keep the secrets he wanted to for himself.”

“What you do is your own choice.” Louis sighs. “But I’m going on the record here and saying that I think you’re making a mistake.”

“Add it to the list.” Niall mutters. “I need to get going. I have to record for O- Someone.”

“Oh, come on!” Louis groans. “At least tell me who it is! What’s the point in having a friend who works with famous people if he never tells me who they are?”

“Bressie would skin me alive.” Niall scoffs, grabbing the edge of the table and hauling himself up off of the ground. “Because you can’t keep your gob shut. I shouldn’t have even told you about Harry, but I’m not risking my job for your gossip fetish.”

“Just throw it under confidentiality.” Louis says, standing up again and helping Niall into the chair so that he can put Bobby back on. “Please?”

“No.” Niall says flatly. “Bressie trusts me, Louis. He has two rules about this place that he actually makes me stick to. Wash my hands after eating or using the loo, which is fucking obvious, and don’t talk about the clients. He lets me get away with murder otherwise, and I’m not ruining that just so you can know who’s in the studio today. I owe him more than that.”

“Fine.” Louis pouts. “If you love Bressie more than me, then don’t tell me.”

“I absolutely do.” Niall snorts.

“Then why are you running late?” Bressie asks from the door.

“Blame him!” Niall rushes out, pointing at Louis who makes an offended noise somewhere between a yelp and a scoff, throwing his hands up in the air.

“You’re the one who was too busy talking about porn to put his leg on!” Louis hisses.

“Does confidentiality mean anything to you?” Niall squawks. “It’s been two goddamn minutes!”

“I didn’t say what kind of porn!” Louis argues.

“Lads, I’m going to need you to get your shite together.” Bressie sighs. “Louis, I need him now. You know I don’t mind you swinging by to do your thing, but today isn’t one of the days where he can just ignore his job or basic manners. I’ve got a big client in, and I need our boyo.”

“He’s all yours.” Louis mutters. “He’s being stubborn anyways.”

“I hate you so fucking much.” Niall growls.

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis waves him off while rolling up his mat. “We still on for veggie burgers and ‘Bake Off’ tonight?”

“Of course.” Niall nods.

“See you then.” Louis hums, grabbing his bag and walking out the back door to the studio.

“You two confuse the fuck out of me.” Bressie says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, we confuse pretty much everyone.” Niall chuckles, standing up from his seat. “’M not even sure I fully understand our relationship. Am I actually late?”

“No.” Bressie laughs. “I just heard you two while I was walking by, and I thought it best to intervene before he somehow managed to wriggle it out of you who we’ve got in today.”

“That’s good.” Niall says softly. “I, uh– Louis brought something up, and I wanted to ask you about it, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Bressie tells him. “Unless you actually want an answer to which one of the two of you I’d shag, because I don’t need to go there.”

“No. I know it’s me.” Niall smirks. “It’s about my behavior, actually. Do I– Do I not thank you for anything? Because apparently I don’t with Louis, and I didn’t even realize until he said something. I don’t want you thinking I’m ungrateful for everything you do for me, Bress, because I’m not. I’m so thankful for everything, and-”

“You don’t.” Bressie admits, cutting him off. Fuck. “Not with words, anyways. That doesn’t mean that I don’t know, though. You do plenty to show you’re grateful. I may joke about how you act around here, but you do things for us that the rest of us don’t think about. You re-string the instruments after long sessions, and you keep the fridge stocked with Dec’s shite yoghurt, and you always have coffee waiting for me when I get in, even though we never ask you to do any of that. I know talking to people isn’t your strong suit anymore, but you’ve never seemed ungrateful. You just need to make sure people understand that, with you, actions are more important than words.”

“I should probably also actually make sure to just say ‘thank you’ more often.” Niall sighs.

“Couldn’t hurt.” Bressie shrugs.

“Guess we should get going before I actually am late.” Niall mumbles.

“Not so fast, boyo.” Bressie hums, planting one big hand on Niall’s chest before he can get out the door. “You know you can talk to me, yeah? It doesn’t always have to be Louis. You were right when you said that I trust you, but you know you can trust me too, right?”

“Of course.” Niall says quietly.

“Then let’s go. Murs is excited to have you on for this one.” Bressie says, dropping his hand and waving it towards one of the recording rooms.

“Don’t see why.” Niall mutters. “I don’t even know why you put me on the roster. I’m not a professional musician.”

“You are now.” Bressie laughs. “And this is pretty big for your first go, so try not to call him a cunt or anything.”

“Why does he want me?” Niall asks. “You’re you. He could have had you.”

“Because he’s doing a ballad, and he said that your style fit best.” Bressie tells him. “When he listened to your demo, he said that there was something sad and heartbroken about it, and that fits with what he’s going for.”

“Who would have guessed that being fucked up in the head would literally pay off?” Niall mutters.

 

“I’ll be right there, Louis.” Niall huffs into his mobile. “I’m only a couple blocks away. I needed to take Conan for his walk, and I got home late because the recording session went longer than planned. He wanted me to work on a whole second song that wasn’t on the schedule.”

“I’m going out to the back to get the grill started.” Louis tells him.

“I figured you already had.” Niall scoffs.

“I’ve got the drinks and cupcakes.” Louis grumbles. “That’s the exchange. I bring the good stuff, and you do the cooking. Is that fence super crooked, or is that just me?”

“Don’t get me started on the bloody-” Niall starts, but stops dead in his tracks.

He’s different than the last time Niall saw him. In fact, he looks exactly the same as the day that Niall had met him. His unkempt beard and shaggy hair have become neat and perfectly trimmed. The ratty burlap clothes they’d been forced into have been replaced with a leather jacket and tight jeans. His pallor is infinitely better, and the weight he’d lost from the first time that Niall had seen him to the last has been gained back. He looks taller, somehow, though that’s probably from not sleeping on a stone floor anymore. And there’s a noticeable lack of bullet holes in his head or burns on his body from how they’d gotten rid of his corpse.

It’s him, though. It has to be him.

“Eoghan.” Niall breathes out before he goes under on his way to the ground.

 

_“Do you ever think about it?” Niall asks quietly, though there’s no need. Their guards don’t speak English, and they don’t pay any attention to their prisoners as long as they keep working._

_“About what?” Eoghan questions._

_“About us taking these shovels, bashing their heads in, and making a run for it.” Niall mutters._

_“We would never get close enough to the camp before they gunned us down.” Eoghan tells him._

_“What does it matter?” Niall hisses. “We’re all going to die here eventually.”_

_“We’re going to get out, Ni.” Eoghan says gently, cupping Niall’s cheek after checking to make sure that the guards aren’t looking first. He presses their foreheads together and quietly adds, “But we need to wait for the right opportunity. We’re as far from the supplies and Perrie as we can get right now. We would need to make it across the open desert between here and camp first. Even if we managed to disarm these guards, all they have is stun batons. We’d never get to anything important with just those and our shovels._

_“They traveled southeast when they took us, so we’re probably near the Iraqi-Syrian border. It’s desert for dozens of kilometers in any direction. We need food, water, weapons and a vehicle, or else we’ll just die out there trying to get to Damascus. We need to be smart about it, if we’re getting out of here.”_

_“They know who I am.” Niall mumbles, turning his head away from Eoghan and getting back to digging his pit. They have no idea why they’re forced to do it, but Niall will take it over being in the cell any day. “Scar– He slipped up last time. He said my da’s name. That means they’re getting information on us, somehow.”_

_“They could have gotten it from one of the group.” Eoghan grunts, turning back to his own portion of the pit. “Don’t jump to conclusions. They’re a rebel militia. They don’t have intelligence officers.”_

_“Then who told them that someone with the LiveWell mission was working for MI-6?” Niall bites out. “And, last I checked, the British government supported the rebels against the Syrian government!”_

_“Then what does that suggest to you, Niall?” Eoghan asks, looking over at him with that soft expression._

_“Oh.” Niall breathes out, realization starting to creep over his brain._

_“Where do you think they’re getting the money for weapons like we’ve seen?” Eoghan asks. “Why do you think they drove so far to get us and then bring us all the way out to ISIL territory? Why do you think they have access to a cave network like this that’s actually been built into? Why do you think they’re so confident about their location that they would put up a communications tower, even after capturing ten foreign nationals when they have no reason to assume that the MI-6 agent would necessarily be one of those ten? They’re probably funded by a larger terror organization.”_

_“Fuck.” Niall whimpers. “Then this– The digging– It’s-”_

_“We’re probably giving them a place to stash weapons.” Eoghan nods._

_“How long have you thought all this?” Niall asks._

_“I’ve been thinking about it since the first day.” Eoghan admits._

_“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” Niall questions._

_“Why panic people more?” Eoghan asks back. “We all had enough to deal with, without piling guilt on top of it for helping them hide weapons, Niall. I didn’t want any of us to die with that on our consciences.”_

_“It should have been you.” Niall mutters. “They never should have looked to me to lead. It should have been you. I was never strong enough or smart enough, and now all of us are dead except for us and Perrie, and I don’t think she’s going to make it to food day with how weak she is.”_

_“We’ll make it, Niall. We’ll all make it. I love you, and I’m going to get us out of here.” Eoghan tells him, and it sounds like a promise, but Niall knows it’s empty._

_None of them are getting out of here alive._

 

“It was him, Louis!” Niall growls. “I know his face!”

“He’s dead, Niall.” Louis sighs. “You know he’s dead.”

“They never showed me a body.” Niall breathes out. “They just said that he they killed him. They never showed me his body.”

“Niall, please don’t do this to yourself.” Louis says gently, setting down the bottle of hydrogen peroxide he’s been using to clean the scratches that the concrete left on Niall’s hands and face. “Think about it. Why would they tell you that they killed him if they hadn’t? Why would he be here in Windsor when he lived in Dublin? Why would he just leave you there on the street with nobody to help you during your episode? Your mind is playing tricks on you. It wasn’t him.”

“It was him.” Niall whimpers, choking out the words as tears well up in his eyes. “Lou, please. You have to believe me. I’m not crazy. I saw him.”

“I believe that you think you saw him.” Louis says quietly. “Maybe it was someone who looked like him enough that your mind filled in the differences. I don’t think you just imagined it. I don’t think you’re crazy, Niall. I just think that you want to believe so badly that it was him, that you’re not listening to your own common sense.”

“He could have gotten out, Louis.” Niall mutters, wiping furiously at his face.

“How, Niall?” Louis asks. “How could a dancer, with no combat or tactical training, escape an entire camp of armed terrorist rebels and make it back to Britain alone? Please, just think about it, Niall. I know you loved him, and that you want to believe that he made it out, but-”

“I hate him.” Niall whispers. “I hate him, Louis. I may have loved him once, but, after what he did to me, I hate him. I don’t want to believe he made it out, but I saw him. I know that I saw him.”

“How did he look?” Louis asks, folding his arms over his chest.

“Like the first day that I met him.” Niall admits. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing, Niall.” Louis cuts him off. “It was a memory. A hallucination. You know this has happened before. You saw your father too, remember? For weeks. You saw him behind you in mirrors and standing on the street and even at the studio.”

“That’s different.” Niall insists. “That was a bad reaction to one of my SSRIs.”

“Then I think we should reevaluate your dosages.” Louis sighs.

“But nothing like that has happened since you levelled out my meds.” Niall mumbles. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re offering me two options, Niall.” Louis answers. “One makes no sense at all, and the other has evidence to support it. You have a history of hallucinations, specifically about people that you loved who died. I’m not trying to dismiss you. I’m just trying to get you to see reason. If you honestly think about it, does it make any sense?”

“No.” Niall admits. “But– But I swear, I thought I saw him, Louis.”

“I know you do.” Louis murmurs, brushing Niall’s fringe out of his eyes.

“He’s really dead, isn’t he?” Niall whispers, clenching his eyes shut tight to stem the flood that’s building up. “They’re all dead, and it’s my fault.”

“Oh, Ni.” Louis says, pulling him into a hug just as he falls forward. Niall sobs, his walls crumbling down on top of him as he clutches tight to Louis’ shirt just to keep himself from collapsing.


	12. Chapter 12

“Let’s just get this over with.” Niall mutters, stepping out of the way for Harry to come in.

“You look like hell.” Harry says softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Had to start a new medication regimen.” Niall sighs, walking back over to the couch and dropping down onto it to curl up under his blanket. “I had a pretty severe problem flare up the day before yesterday, and Louis is trying to work out which one it is that’s giving me problems. It’s going to be a rough time trying to even out.”

“Do you want me to come back later?” Harry offers.

“What’s the point?” Niall asks. “I’m going to feel like this for a few days at least. Might as well get it over with, yeah? Conan, water.”

Conan shuffles off, surprisingly paying Harry no mind on the way to complete his task. Then again, maybe it isn’t all that surprising. He’s stuck close to Niall’s side all morning, even more so since Louis left. He’s been worried, Niall can tell, and he hates doing that to Conan.

Conan returns a moment later, a bottle of water clenched between his teeth, and Niall mumbles out, “Thanks, bud.”

“Is that cold?” Harry asks. “You taught him to use the fridge?”

“He’s very helpful.” Niall slurs out, rubbing his face with his palm to try and wake himself up. “A bit of a mother hen, but helpful.”

Conan, as if to prove Niall’s point, climbs up onto the couch with him, nestling against his side.

“Won’t give you a bit of space, will he?” Harry chuckles. “He was always like that with me, too. I got the flu once, and he spent the whole time trying to get so close to me that we’d fuse, or something. I woke up one morning with his whole upper half actually inside of my shirt.”

“You’re a bloody nutter.” Niall murmurs, stroking Conan’s ears. “But so am I, so I guess I don’t have any room to talk.”

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, taking a seat in the chair nearest to Niall’s head.

“Like the entire world is moving too slow and to fast at the same time, and also like I’ve been repeatedly run over with a lorry that I also somehow drove.” Niall tells him, opening up his bottle of water and taking a sip. “It’s not the worst condition I’ve ever been in, though, so I’m dealing with it. I just need to stay away from everything so that I don’t get triggered while my body is trying to settle in.”

“Do you want me to just get started?” Harry asks.

“Yeah.” Niall sighs. “But you didn’t look around, last time, so if you could go do that while I rest my eyes for a minute and try to get my head on straight, then that would be brilliant.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

Harry’s barely out of the room before Niall’s eyes shut, and then he’s asleep before he even knows what hit him.

 

“There you are, sleepyhead.” Harry chuckles when Niall finds him out in the garden with Conan. “I was wondering how long you were going to be out for.”

“How long was it?” Niall asks, rubbing his fist against his eye.

“About four hours.” Harry answers after looking down at his mobile.

“Christ.” Niall mutters. “And you stayed?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Harry says quietly. “I thought you could use some help, even though you probably wouldn’t admit it.”

“Don’t you have other things to be doing?” Niall asks him. “I doubt you’re supposed to be here for so long.”

“I haven’t been assigned a new dog for specific focus yet.” Harry admits. “I won’t be assigned one for the first few months because of the visit frequency. So I put in hours with the non-specifically trained dogs on the days when I don’t have visits, and I’m free on the days that I do.”

“I’d say you have a pretty sweet gig going there, but you have to deal with me on a fairly regular basis, and my job is better than yours, so-” Niall hums, trailing off as he slumps against the doorframe. “Then again, your head is relatively normal, and you have two mile-long legs, so you’re still probably getting the slightly less shit-covered end of this stick.”

“Wow, you are right on form today, aren’t you?” Harry snorts.

“New meds. No filter. Everything runs straight from my brain to my mouth because it’s too busy trying to figure out up from down and angry from sad to bother stopping me from saying stupid shite.” Niall mutters. “And they make me itchy, which makes me bitchy, and that rhymed, which I hate myself for. Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Harry points out.

“That is for the best.” Niall tells him. “The less you talk, the less I’ll talk, and the less suffering either of us has to do for what comes out of my mouth.”

“I don’t think this dosage is working for you.” Harry says quietly. “You’re a bit manic.”

“It’s just how it goes when I try a new regimen.” Niall sighs. “It’s, like– Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

“Yes.” Harry answers, crinkling his eyebrows in confusion.

“Alright, so– I’m the Millennium Falcon, yeah?” Niall offers in explanation. “The people inside are my brain and what I can process, but I’m also the space around it. My thoughts go so fast that they’re like those stars that go all stretchy outside of it. Does that make sense?”

“Everything inside your head is moving at different speeds.” Harry nods. “So trying to focus on some things makes everything else that’s going on all that much more confusing.”

“Yes.” Niall groans. “Louis didn’t get it at all. It’s like I’m trying to catch my thoughts out of a stream with my bare hands, but I can only get one at a time, and the rest are just colliding with me as they go by. But this is still better than when everything gets dulled and I can’t think or feel anymore. I’ll take manic over robotic any day. Do you want food? I’m starving.”

“I could eat.” Harry chuckles. “But I think it’s best if you stay out of the kitchen right now, or at least away from sharp things and-or fire. How about I cook?”

“Sure. I don’t care. I just want food.” Niall tells him. “Something cheesy. I’ve got lots of lactose-deficient years to make up for. Fucking Bobby. Shite– I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did, but not like that. He was a good da. I just-”

“I know what you meant.” Harry cuts him off. “Let’s just get you some food, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” Niall mumbles. “Thank you.”

“Come on. Let’s go see what you’ve got.” Harry says, whistling for Conan and guiding Niall back inside. And Niall can walk just fine, really, but having Harry’s hand on his shoulder, steering him through the house, makes it easier to focus on trying to interpret his own thoughts since he doesn’t have to worry about his body for a minute. Harry leads Niall into a chair at the bar and says, “You just stay there while I figure supper out.”

“Why are you like this?” Niall asks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Harry tells him, crossing over to the fridge. “I’m like a lot of things.”

“Nice to me.” Niall says quietly. “Why are you nice to me? I’m always a dick to you, so why are you nice to me?”

“Because-” Harry says softly, turning to meet Niall’s eyes. “You’re not always a dick to me. You have your bad days, but you have your good days too. And I like you, whether or not you like me. I think you’re funny, and you cook the best tacos I’ve ever had, and you taught me how to play poker. Having bad days doesn’t make you a bad person, Niall.”

“You don’t know me, Harry.” Niall mutters. “You don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“Stop.” Harry says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Stop, before you tell me something that you wouldn’t if your filter was still there.”

“Then I’m going to need to be distracted.” Niall sighs, laying his head down on the counter sideways and staring at Harry. “Because there’s a lot of things I wouldn’t tell you. Like that I k-”

“No.” Harry cuts him off. “No. Stop that. We’ll figure out a distraction, yeah?”

“How do you do it?” Niall asks.

“Distract you?” Harry questions. “I don’t know. Give me a second to figure it out.”

“No.” Niall mumbles, shaking his head. “Make me want to talk. How do you make me want to talk? I never want to talk to anyone, about anything, but you make me want to talk. You make it easier to talk, even though I hate you sometimes.”

“I don’t do anything special, Niall.” Harry chuckles, turning back to the fridge. “Maybe you just don’t hate me as much as you want to think you do. How does grilled cheese sound?”

“Brilliant.” Niall hums. “My da used to be a butcher, you know. Not many people know that, but he used to be a butcher. Then he saw the conditions the animals lived in, and he quit his job and became an animal rights activist.”

“How did he go from that to LiveWell?” Harry asks, setting a pan on the stove and turning it on.

“You know, he never actually told me.” Niall admits. “He took a trip to Indonesia, can’t remember which island, with an endangered species conservationist group. Can’t remember what species it was for anymore, either. I think it was for tigers, but it might have been elephants. He didn’t like to talk about it, but whatever he saw there was enough for him to come back and start LiveWell. That’s when my mother decided to leave him. Got fed up with him leaving home to save the world and sinking money they didn’t have into his startup when he had two sons at home, which is kind of ironic, when you think about it, seeing as she left me behind.”

“He was brave.” Harry says quietly. “Risking everything to do what he thought was right.”

“He was.” Niall nods. “But he could also be self-righteous and unfocused and selfish. I didn’t get to go to school because he needed to be able to be able to travel, but he couldn’t just leave me at home alone. I was homeschooled, although it’s funny they call it that, because I was barely ever home. I barely knew what home meant until I was eighteen, off to uni, and missing this place.

“And, fuck– He kept me vegan my whole life because of his guilt over being a butcher. He always said it was because our bodies are temples, and we need to take care of them accordingly, but– Well– One of the support beams is gone from my temple and it’s crumbling all the time. I might as well eat some fucking cheese. I still shop organic and cruelty free, but– Cheese is fucking good, Harry. It’s really, really good.”

“It is.” Harry agrees.

“Besides, it’s not like I had much of a choice what they fed me down there.” Niall mutters. “If it was meat, I ate it. If it was cheese, I ate it. If it was moldy fucking bread, I ate it. I don’t eat meat again now, because I can’t eat it without picturing him being ashamed of me, but I’m going to eat the bloody cheese. I don’t give a-”

“Niall, I think we’re edging back into territory that you’d want to stay out of.” Harry tells him.

“Then you talk.” Niall huffs. “It’s hard to not say shite when I’m the one doing all the bloody talking.”

“Alright.” Harry nods. “But, real quick, which kind of cheese do you want?”

“Literally any kind I have in there is fine.” Niall hums. “I’m still trying out different varieties, but I know that I like all of those.”

“I’ll figure something out, then.” Harry chuckles. “Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

“Shut up. I do not.” Niall grumbles.

“You do, actually.” Harry says with a bright smile. “Mostly, it was just you saying ‘Fucking Derby’ over and over. That’s why I went outside, though. I didn’t want to overhear anything.”

“Oh my god, they’ve gotten so bad that I’m actually dreaming about how shite they are?” Niall asks with a groan. “Why couldn’t my da raise me to support a better team?”

“It does seem like an unfortunate choice.” Harry chuckles.

“Says the Elvis devotee.” Niall scoffs.

“And, what, may I ask, do you have against Elvis Presley?” Harry asks, turning with his hand on his hip and his eyebrow cocked so high that it looks like it might fly off of his forehead.

“He’s dead.” Niall answers with a shrug.

“I’m aware.” Harry replies, rolling his eyes. “So?”

“So what’s the fun in having a favorite artist who’s never going to put out another song?” Niall asks, wrinkling his nose up. “I understand being a fan, but he’s your very favorite.”

“You’re a fan of the Eagles!” Harry hisses.

“The Eagles had the number one selling album of the twentieth century in the US.” Niall argues. “Elvis never even reached twenty million sales with a single album.”

“And, yet, he’s the second most successful artist of all time and sold hundreds of millions more albums than the Eagles ever did.” Harry says flatly.

“That’s only claimed sales, not proven.” Niall huffs. “And, even if you only go by the albums that he had a hand in, Elvis put out seventy-four albums. The Eagles only put out nineteen between studio, live and compilation albums. There have been over five times as many posthumous albums and CD box sets by Elvis as there have been total Eagles albums.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about Elvis’ discography for someone who doesn’t even like him.” Harry says smugly. “Methinks you protest too much.”

“I work in a recording studio, Harry.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve got more useless information like that packed into my head than most people learn in a lifetime, and I’m good with numbers.”

“No way.” Harry breathes out. “You really work in a recording studio?”

“I do.” Niall nods. “Over in Notting Hill.”

“What do you do?” Harry asks, turning back to the sandwiches. Thank god. Niall is really fucking hungry.

“I’m an assistant.” Niall sighs. “But I’m also on their offering list for people who need a guitar player. Only ever had one client ask for me, but it was a pretty big one, so-”

“Who?” Harry asks.

“Olly Murs.” Niall answers, wincing as soon as the name is out of his mouth. “Shite! I’m not supposed to tell anyone! You can’t say anything! Especially to Louis! Oh, fuck!”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Harry rushes out. “Calm down. I’m guessing you have an NDA?”

“Yes.” Niall groans, slapping himself on the forehead. He only manages to hit himself twice before Harry’s hand shoots across the counter and takes ahold of Niall’s.

“Stop.” Harry murmurs. “Seriously, I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t mean to take advantage of your situation. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Niall mutters. “It’s mine. My stupid brain fucking up again, making me switch my regimen just so I could believe for a second that he didn’t die. He did die, though. He died, and I hate him, so why-”

“Niall.” Harry says firmly, cutting him off. “You’re doing it again.”

“I hate this.” Niall whispers. “I fucking hate it so much.”

“How about we go through the questions for my survey?” Harry offers. “That should keep your head away from anything you can’t, or don’t want to, talk about, yeah?”

“Please.” Niall says quietly, nodding in little jerks.

“How have things been with Conan since my last visit?” Harry asks, releasing his grip on Niall’s hand.

“Good.” Niall tells him. “He’s settling in. He has a favorite chair, which used to be my favorite chair, but I can’t sit in it anymore without my arse getting all furry.”

“Have you been sticking to the recommended diet?” Harry asks him, putting the sandwiches together and throwing one in the pan. It hisses, and the smell of melting butter fills Niall’s nose, making him drool just a little bit.

“No.” Niall admits. “I fed him a cheeseburger on the day we came back from the facility. And some fries. He had really greasy poop the next morning though, so I haven’t done it again. It was gross.”

“Let’s maybe steer away from that topic while I’m making us supper, yeah?” Harry giggles.

“I also fed him pizza.” Niall tells him.

“You can’t do that, Niall.” Harry sighs. “Garlic and onions are bad for dogs. They can be fatal. They’ll make his hemoglobin clump up, and it can make him anemic. It takes a lot to be fatal, but you still need to watch out.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry!” Niall whimpers. “I– I didn’t know.”

“I know.” Harry says gently. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. I’ll make you a list of all the things that you need to be sure that he doesn’t ingest, okay? There are a lot of things people don’t know about. It’s more than just chocolate. Macadamia nuts, grapes and avocados are some of the more common ones that you should avoid, with onions and garlic. Yeasty breads and bacon too. I’ll write it all down for you and text it to you later tonight.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Harry tells him. “Lots of people don’t know these things. When we first got him, I gave him half of what was left of some chocolate ice cream until Gemma saw and started screaming at me and beating me about the head.”

“Well, at least I’m not the only fuck up.” Niall mutters, sighing after he hears himself. “Shite. Sorry.”

“You’re fine.” Harry chuckles, flipping over the sandwich with a spatula. “I’m not perfect. That isn’t news to me. Everybody makes mistakes.”

“Everybody has those days.” Niall hums. “Everybody knows what, what I’m talkin’ ‘bout- Everybody gets that way.”

“Did– Did you just sing Hannah Montana?” Harry giggles.

“If you ever tell anyone that that just happened, I’ll cut off your leg.” Niall says flatly. “And I can’t lie right now, so you know I’m serious.”

“I’ll keep your secret.” Harry snorts. “But you never get to make fun of my passion for Elvis again.”

“Why Elvis?” Niall questions.

“It’s the only thing I remember about my father.” Harry mumbles. “I can’t remember his laugh or what his job was or if he used to read to me before bed. I can’t remember his face without looking at a picture. I remember he loved Elvis, though. I remember playing that game with him, and always being excited when I won. And, when he left our family, he left all of his old Elvis records in a box on my bed.

“And – I hate him for it, you know? I hate him for leaving us. I refused to listen to them for a really long time. My mother had to stop me from breaking them a few different times. But when I started getting more into music as I got older, I started listening to them again, and it felt good. It felt good to stop hating him for a little while, and just remember what little I could about him. They were happy memories. Whatever happened in the end, those were happy memories.”

“You really haven’t spoken to him since then?” Niall asks.

“No.” Harry admits. “Not once. I don’t know where he went. I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead.”

“What do you know?” Niall sighs. “We’ve both got one parent who abandoned us, and one who’s dead.”

“That’s the long and short of it.” Harry nods, plating up the first sandwich and sliding it over to Niall. He tosses the second one on the pan and then looks up and asks, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“It’s rude to eat before your guest.” Niall says with a shrug. “Especially since you’re the one cooking.”

“You can eat. I won’t be offended.” Harry says with a small smile.

“My da would pop up as a ghost just to kick my arse.” Niall chuckles. “I’ve already hallucinated one dead man this week. Let’s try to keep it at that.”

“Then let’s get back to my questions, yeah?” Harry hums. “Make the time pass quicker.”

“That’s really not how time works.” Niall scoffs.

“Quit being argumentative.” Harry laughs. “How has it been when you bring Conan into work?”

“The boys fucking love him.” Niall grins, looking down to the lab snoozing by his seat. “Nobody can get enough of him. It’s actually a bit of a problem. Dec, the studio drummer, tried to steal him the other day, so I retaliated by farting on the pillow he uses for naps.”

“Oh my god.” Harry snorts. “Have you left him home alone?”

“I had to on the day I was doing guitar.” Niall admits. “Just because I didn’t know how long we’d be there, and I didn’t want him getting bored because he’s not allowed in the actual studio part.”

“How long?” Harry asks.

“About six hours.” Niall sighs. “I know it’s not supposed to be more than four, but I couldn’t get out any earlier than that. He knows how to open and close the door to the garden if he needs to go out, though.”

“It’s not about that.” Harry says quietly. “Assistance dogs aren’t supposed to be left alone for so long because they’re so attached to their partners, Niall. It causes them extreme anxiety to be left alone at all. That’s why the rule is four hours. This can’t be a regular occurrence.”

“I know.” Niall mumbles. “I’ve worked out a system with Louis. If I’m going to have a long day in the studio, Louis will pick Conan up for me and take him back to his place, then I’ll go get him.”

“Alright.” Harry nods. “Do you have a backup plan in case Louis isn’t available?”

“No.” Niall groans, dropping his head on his hands. “I’ll talk to Liam.”

“If you can give me a couple of hours’ notice, I can do it.” Harry offers. “I wouldn’t take him back to mine, obviously, but I can bring him here and stay with him.”

“Why on Earth would you want to deal with me any more than you have to already?” Niall asks him incredulously.

“Well, for one thing, I love Conan.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “And you aren’t always that bad.”

“I got bitchy with you because I told you about my past.” Niall says quietly. “Last time you were here– Louis thinks the reason that I lost it on you is because telling you made me anxious. I think he’s right.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to tell me, Niall.” Harry mutters, flipping his sandwich over.

“You’re only the fifth person I’ve told, outside of my therapists.” Niall admits. “Even as little as I told you, you’re only the fifth. It’s– It’s weird, having you know. Nobody at work even knows, except my boss, but you know.”

“I didn’t ask to know, Niall.” Harry says, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s not like I’m trying to give you more reasons to hate me.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Niall mumbles.

“I’m definitely right, Niall.” Harry says, shaking his head and plating up his sandwich. “I’d know if I wanted you to hate me.”

“Not about that.” Niall replies. “Maybe I don’t really hate you as much as I want to think I do.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes out. “Ni-”

“Honey, I’m home!” comes Louis’ voice from the front door. “I went to the library and borrowed a bunch of those Elvis films you keep whinging about, and– Harry?”

“Is that so?” Harry smirks, whatever he was about to say before seemingly forgotten in the wake of his overwhelming smugness.

“Don’t get a big head.” Niall grumbles. “I only want them for Conan.”

“Sure.” Harry hums cockily. “I guess I should probably leave before I overstay my welcome again.”

“But– Your supper.” Niall points out.

“You or Louis can eat it.” Harry says, coming around the counter and crouching down next to Conan, who’s blinking up at him lazily. “I’ll be back in three days, okay? I’ll see you then.”

Conan licks at Harry’s hand, nuzzling against it for the few rubs that the lad gives him before standing back up, patting Niall on the shoulder as he says, “I’ll– I’ll text you that list of food he can’t eat.”

“Bye.” Niall says quietly, but Harry’s already gone.

It’s not until Louis is interrogating him about his day that he realizes he managed to not think about or mention Harry’s pornographic past, which feels like a sign that that’s exactly what he needs to keep doing.


	13. Chapter 13

“Have you done anything today?” Bressie asks, sitting on the edge of Niall’s desk and stealing a couple crisps. Anyone else would have a staple in their thigh before they could take a bite, but Bressie deserves more than just a few crisps for dealing with Niall. He deserves an award, honestly. Maybe a cash prize, too. “You know that I’m not letting you leave until I get your edits on at least one of those songs.”

“No. I’ll get to it. Go away.” Niall mutters, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’ll blow my cover.”

“I’m the boss.” Bressie scoffs. “Your cover has already been blown.”

“Not that cover.” Niall says, waving him off. “I don’t care about that. Louis is talking to his bloke, and I’m trying to figure out who it is. He doesn’t know I can open the intercom to the recording studios on my phone, but he keeps looking out here, and I don’t want him to catch me.”

“You can do that?” Bressie asks. “How often do you do that?”

“Often enough to know that you like it when Roz calls you ‘daddy’.” Niall snorts.

“You’re fired.” Bressie huffs out through clenched teeth and a hilariously bright blush.

“No I’m not.” Niall chuckles. “If you fire me, how are you going to know all the dirt I’ve gathered on you lads? You will not believe what Aidan does on Saturday nights, or the conversations that Justin has with his mum.”

“You need a fucking personal life.” Bressie sighs. “And, no, the disconcerting amount of time that you spend with Louis doesn’t count. You need a hobby or a bloke or something. Anything to keep you from sticking your nose in other people’s business for your own amusement.”

“I have a dog.” Niall points out. “And I do yoga. I have hobbies. I don’t need a bloke, and I don’t want one.”

“Conan isn’t a hobby, he’s an assistance dog. And yoga is part of your therapy.” Bressie counters. “I’m serious, Niall. I worry about you.”

“Don’t we all?” Louis hums, walking out of the studio.

“Damn it!” Niall mutters under his breath, turning off the intercom and glaring at Bressie for distracting him too much to decipher who Louis was talking to.

“That’s what you get for being a prick, Horan.” Bressie says before leaning in and whispering, “And you should keep what you know to yourself, understand?”

“Of course.” Niall smirks, waiting until Bressie is halfway across the room to add, “Daddy.”

He can almost hear the vein in Bressie’s forehead explode, but the older man never reacts or turns back.

“Oh, if you shagged Bressie by preying on his daddy-kink, that’s just not fair.” Louis snorts. “That was my plan.”

“How would you possibly know if Bressie had a daddy-kink?” Niall asks.

“Oh, please.” Louis scoffs. “I can suss out anyone’s dirty pleasures within five minutes. I’m like a kink-psychic. It’s why I decided to study psychology when I blew out my ankle and couldn’t play footy anymore.”

“Bullshit.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“You used to like being manhandled.” Louis grins, sitting across from Niall. “You liked being held down, spanked, and having a guy fuck your mouth.”

“Shut up!” Niall hisses. “When the fuck did I tell you that?”

“You didn’t.” Louis says with a cocky smirk. “I’m telling you, I’m a kink-psychic. Could tell you Harry’s, if you want. If you haven’t binged on all of his videos, that is.”

“No, and no.” Niall growls. “I have no interest in Harry. How many times do I have to say that before you believe me?”

“Just once.” Louis says with a shrug. “But you have to actually mean it.”

“I do mean it!” Niall groans, fisting his hand in his hair and tugging on it.

“Then why did it feel like I walked in on something the other day?” Louis asks, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm.

“Because you’re a bloody lunatic!” Niall snaps. “You have got to drop this obsession that you have with Harry and I ever– and I fucking mean, ever– being together! I don’t know what the hell makes you think there’s anything there, but you’re wrong!”

Conan whines and butts his head against Niall’s knee, pulling him out of his anger just to plunge him into guilt for interrupting the lab’s nap.

Niall sighs and says, “Please, Louis, just stop.”

“He’d be good for you, you know.” Louis says quietly. “Harry, I mean. I don’t know why you’re so dead-set against acknowledging the chemistry there, but I’ll stop if it really bothers you so much.”

“It does.” Niall mutters. “I can barely trust my own head sometimes. I don’t need you, of all people, making me feel like I’m wrong for not wanting a relationship. I get it. You’re worried about me. Having a bloke isn’t going to fix me though, Louis. It would just make everything more complicated.”

“You’re right.” Louis says, leaning back in his chair. “It wouldn’t fix you, and it probably would make some things more complicated. But it would also keep you from being so lonely all the time.”

“Being lonely is the least of my problems, Louis.” Niall says, closing the laptop he uses for work. “If you’re all set, you should get Conan out of here. Bressie wants me to take a look at the songs I recorded with the client the other day so that I can do some edits. I might actually get a producer credit on these songs if I do it right. I’ll head over as soon as I’m done here.”

“I’m getting really tired of being dismissed, Niall.” Louis huffs.

“I’m not dismissing you.” Niall tells him. “But I have to go into the studio now, and it’s going to be a while. If you want to wait out here with him, that’s your business. I just figured that you’d rather head home now so that you’d be more comfortable and avoid the worst of the traffic.”

“Oh.” Louis sighs. “You have a good point.”

“I generally do, despite the fact that I’ve only got half a functional brain.” Niall hums.

“Shut up.” Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’ve definitely got sixty- maybe even sixty-five percent of a functional brain.”

“Ah, but are you taking into account the dead guy I saw four days ago?” Niall snorts.

“Okay, forty-five.” Louis says with a wicked grin.

“Complete arse, you are.” Niall chuckles, letting Conan help him up from his chair. The wheels on the damn thing are great for getting places without getting up, but they play hell with Niall’s leg when he actually tries to stand. “But you’re probably right, so I won’t argue. I forwarded you that list of foods that Conan can’t eat, yeah?”

“I have it memorized.” Louis nods.

“Good. Don’t get him killed.” Niall says, stroking Conan’s ear a few times before adding, “And you don’t eat Louis unless I’m there to watch.”

He heads off into the studio after that, his stomach heaving with nerves. Bressie is trusting him with a lot here, and Niall just prays he doesn’t fuck up this chance. He doubts he’ll get another any time soon.

 

“How are things going?” Harry asks.

“With Conan, or with my head since the last time you were here?” Niall questions for clarification.

“Both.” Harry says cautiously.

“Things with Conan are good.” Niall answers. “And I can stop words from flying out of my mouth, so that’s an improvement in the head area. I’m not quite back to where I was when we first met, but I wouldn’t be for a little while anyways, even if I wasn’t under so much stress.”

“What kind of stress?” Harry asks.

“Work stuff.” Niall sighs. “Bressie has me producing the tracks that I recorded on, and it’s got my nerves all shot to hell.”

“Bressie?” Harry asks, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Like, ‘Bressie’ Bressie? Niall Breslin, Bressie? He’s your boss? You work at Camden Recording Studios?”

“It’s ‘Blizzards Recording Studios’ now. They renamed in honor of the band when they relocated from Dublin.” Niall explains. “But, yeah. That’s him. I haven’t mentioned that?”

“No!” Harry squawks. “Holy shite! That’s amazing!”

“I’m just an assistant, Harry.” Niall points out.

“An assistant who’s producing two songs for a top-selling artist with twelve platinum certifications!” Harry hisses.

“No, I’m being given the chance to produce them.” Niall argues. “I have to be approved by Bressie and the boys first, and, if that even happens, they’ll hand over their version first, and mine as an extra offering. I’d have to be approved by, like– A dozen people in order to actually be considered a producer for those songs. It’s not going to happen. The important part is that, if Bressie and the lads like what I did, they might add me to the list of in-studio producers. I’m not stupid. My versions of the songs aren’t making it onto his album.”

“But they could.” Harry argues. “You shouldn’t stop hoping for that just because it’s a long-shot.”

“Harry, I was locked in a cell for four months, watched everyone around me die, lost my leg, and got brought back two weeks after my da died.” Niall says flatly. “Hope isn’t in my wheelhouse. I’m cautiously optimistic that my job might actually be going somewhere other than answering phones and filing paperwork. Why can’t that be enough?”

“Is it?” Harry asks softly. “Is that enough for you, Niall?”

“It is.” Niall nods.

“Cautious optimism it is, then.” Harry agrees, smiling so hard it puts craters in his cheeks. “Have you celebrated?”

“How?” Niall scoffs. “I can’t drink much, because of my meds.”

“I don’t know.” Harry says with a shrug. “How do you celebrate?”

“Haven’t had anything worth celebrating since I’ve been back, so I don’t know.” Niall admits.

“Wow, you are a major buzzkill.” Harry snorts. “Come on. Let’s go out. We’ll figure something out.”

“Now you’re tagging along?” Niall asks.

“Well, if I leave you to do it alone, you’ll find some way to bring yourself down.” Harry chuckles. “It’ll be my job today to make sure that you don’t rain on your own parade.”

“Aren’t you just supposed to be here for work?” Niall questions.

“I told you, I don’t have anything else to do on the days that I come out here. Trainers with the charity are salaried, because our hours can be so erratic. The downside is that I generally work more than a forty hour week, and don’t get any overtime. The plus side is that, on days like today, I can finish my work quickly, and then do whatever I want.” Harry explains.

“So you basically get a half day, even with the drive out here and back, and you want to spend the rest of that day celebrating someone else’s possible accomplishment and making sure that I don’t remind myself that there’s nothing to actually celebrate yet?” Niall asks incredulously.

“Got a problem with that?” Harry asks with a smirk.

“I have the day off too, and I was hoping to be lazy.” Niall grumbles.

“If you just sit around here all day, you’re only going to stress yourself out more.” Harry hums. “Come on. I promise you’ll have fun.”

“Have we met?” Niall scoffs.

“What if I pay for everything?” Harry offers. “That way, if you don’t have fun, you didn’t lose anything except a few hours of frustration.”

“You know how I feel about having anyone pay for me.” Niall huffs. “But you aren’t going to drop this, are you?”

“Nope.” Harry grins. “I’m like a dog with a bone.”

“Okay, even if I ignore the fact that you definitely thought that was witty– Which it really wasn’t, at all– I don’t like being the bone in this scenario.” Niall sighs.

“Too late.” Harry giggles. “So you have two options. One, you can just come with me now, or, two, you can endure a lot of whinging and begging and teasing and horrible jokes until I finally wear you down and you agree to come anyways. It’s your choice.”

“You forgot about option three, where I kick you out.” Niall growls.

“No, see, if you do that, then I’ll stand on the street and sing Elvis songs at the top of my lungs until you agree to go out.” Harry beams.

“I hate you so fucking much.” Niall mutters. “What did you have in mind, then?”

 

“Seriously?” Niall asks, looking around.

“It’s more fun than you think.” Harry says with a shrug. “And I’d bet money that you’ve never been.”

“No bet.” Niall sighs. “Isn’t it kind of– I don’t know– Touristy?”

“How much time have you actually spent in London, Niall?” Harry asks.

“I’ve lived here since I was a baby.” Niall huffs.

“Yeah, but how much time have you actually spent doing things around London?” Harry asks. “You may have lived here for your whole life, but you’ve spent so much of it being in other places all around the world. Have you ever been to Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard? The Globe Theatre? The Tower of London?”

“My da took me to the Globe when I was younger.” Niall admits quietly. “We were standing in the yard, and it started raining. I wanted to leave, but my da said that rain never hurt anybody, and we finished the play. I– I remember it was ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, and I didn’t understand what was going on, but my da was laughing, so I laughed too. And I was, like- Ten, I think, but I remember walking away from that show with a huge crush on the actor who played Lysander. First crush I ever had, I think.”

“I played Puck once.” Harry hums. “In my first real play.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that fit well.” Niall snorts. “A mischievous little sprite, running around, fucking shit up and making asses out of people.”

“It was a great role.” Harry sighs dreamily. “Except the helmet that they made me wear. It kept slipping down and covering my eyes. I didn’t learn to play that up for laughs until a few shows in. Once I figured it out, though- Brought the house down.”

“Have I mentioned lately that you’re ridiculous?” Niall asks, shaking his head.

“Have I mentioned lately that you’re grumpy?” Harry fires back.

“I’m going to be waiting on queue for the next two hours just to ride a Ferris wheel.” Niall grumbles. “I get to be grumpy.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” Harry chuckles. “I’m springing for the fast-track tickets. We won’t have to wait that long.”

 

“‘We won’t have to wait that long.’” Niall mimics in a nasally pitch.

“We are the next group in line. Will you relax?” Harry sighs. “It’s only been half an hour.”

“Why did I agree to this?” Niall groans, looking nervously at the slowly approaching capsule that’s going to pick them up any minute. “I take it back. I don’t agree anymore.”

“Then you can wait here for another half an hour, because I’m getting on.” Harry tells him. “I didn’t pay all that money and wait this long just to turn back now.”

“Alright, lads-” the controller says. “Give me a minute, and I’ll stop it so you can get on.”

“You don’t stop it for anyone else.” Niall points out angrily. “It moves slow enough to walk onto.”

“We stop it for disabled visitors.” the guy says, suddenly looking a bit nervous. “To make it easier to get onto.”

“I’ll manage.” Niall says flatly. “Don’t stop it for me. I don’t need that. My assistance dog here will make sure of it.”

“Al- Alright.” the guy stutters out.

“Can you try not to be surly to everyone we meet today?” Harry sighs.

“I absolutely will not try that.” Niall mutters. “Being surly is my trademark.”

“Do you want to go first, or should I?” Harry asks with a roll of his eyes.

“You go.” Niall tells him. “Don’t need you being all clumsy and tripping into me.”

“Alright.” Harry says, shaking his head and walking into the capsule when the attendant waves them in.

Niall follows right behind him, and everything goes fine until it doesn’t. Harry turns when he reaches the bench, and Niall’s eyes catch a familiar face on the other side of the glass. It’s only a flicker of his profile before he’s lost to the crowd, but it’s enough to make Niall falter in his step and collide with Harry while he’s turning.

Harry reaches for him, and, to his credit, almost manages to stop the fall. He gets one hand on the small of Niall’s back, and pulls him in closer, but all that ends up doing is throwing off his own balance and sending both of them to the ground instead of just Niall.

Harry somehow pivots as they’re going down, and Niall’s body instinctively tugs Harry’s face against his chest to protect him from cracking the back of his head against the metal floor. The impact makes his real knee scream in pain, but he manages to take the blow with that and the hand he doesn’t have fisted into Harry’s hair, keeping them both relatively safe.

Bobby slips off of Niall’s leg as he scrambles forward, not even bothering to check if him and Harry are both okay. It’s not something that he ever thought he’d do in public, but his brain isn’t thinking rationally at the moment. He crawls on his hands, using both his leg and stump to move as quickly as he can.

It’s not fast enough though, and the pod is already moving away from the earth as Niall reaches the other side through the small crowd inside, pounding on the glass and screaming, “Eoghan! Eoghan!”

With every scream of the dead man’s name, Niall’s chest tightens until he can barely gasp out the words. He can’t breathe until a body wraps around him from behind, pulling him tight against a firm chest, and fingers slide in between his to keep him from bloodying himself on the glass.

“Niall, please come back.” Harry whispers, pleads over and over as a mantra while he holds Niall through all of his thrashing and sobbing until the blond finally gives up.

“I saw him.” Niall chokes out when he drops his head back against Harry’s chest, letting the tears pour out silently now that he’s too spent to sob any more. Conan presses himself against Niall’s front, and Harry clings tight to Niall’s back, and Niall doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t have enough of anything left in him for a fight. “I swear I saw him.”

 

_“Wanna get out of here?” Eoghan whispers into Niall’s fringe._

_“You ask that like the answer would ever be no.” Niall mutters into Eoghan’s chest. “But, unless you’ve stolen a key or summat-”_

_“Not like that.” Eoghan says gently, chuckling, somehow, as he clasps Niall’s hand in his. “Just close your eyes for me, alright?”_

_“Won’t make a damn bit of difference in this dark, but sure.” Niall sighs, doing as Eoghan instructed and shutting his eyes. “Oh look, I’m still in this bloody-”_

_“Out of everywhere, where would you want to live?” Eoghan cuts him off. “Not just anywhere that isn’t here, but out of everywhere in the whole world. Where would you choose to live?”_

_“The English countryside.” Niall admits quietly, catching onto where Eoghan is going with this. “A couple hours outside London. Always wanted a little cottage in the country. Close enough that I can see my da, but far enough away that I can pretend there’s nobody left on Earth when I want to.”_

_“Good.” Eoghan hums, pressing his lips softly against the creases in Niall’s brow until they relax and smooth out. His beard tickles against Niall’s skin, but Niall has gotten used to that over the last few months. He’s sure his own is just as itchy on Eoghan’s skin. “I could work with a cottage. Wouldn’t mind seeing you puttering around a garden in the mornings, or walking through the hills with you at sunset.”_

_“Sop.” Niall snorts. “Who says I’m inviting you to my cottage?”_

_“Hope you do.” Eoghan murmurs. “When we get out of here, I never want to leave your side again.”_

_“Hope you like exposed ceiling beams, then.” Niall tells him, tilting his head up until their noses rub against one another. “Because they’re going to be everywhere in my cottage.”_

_“As long as there’s a fireplace, you can decorate the whole place however you want.” Eoghan says, curling his fingers tighter through Niall’s. “I’m partial to a nice fire around Christmas time.”_

_“Of course.” Niall nods. “Wouldn’t be a proper country cottage without a fireplace, yeah? And a little rosebush in the garden, and a shitty stove that never wants to work properly.”_

_“And a bedroom door with hinges that creak when you open it, no matter how much you oil them.” Eoghan adds. “And a shower that takes ten minutes to heat up.”_

_“But it’ll be ours.” Niall breathes out._

_“Ours.” Eoghan agrees, tightening his grip on Niall._

_“Oi, you wankers.” Perrie says through a hacking cough from across the small room. “If you’re not going to invite me to live in this magical cottage, at least keep your soppy, gay shite down so I can die in peace, yeah?”_

_“Don’t worry. We’ll need a maid.” Eoghan tells her. “How do you feel about frills and lace?”_

_“Fuck off.” Perrie says with a weak laugh. “Niall can be the maid. He’s got a better arse than me anyhow. And I want a room with an en suite. I’m not sharing a bathroom with you two ever again.”_

_They all know it’s a lie. They know that they’re never getting out of here alive, that they’re never going to find that cottage, that they’ll never get the chance to be together, but the fantasy is nice for a minute. It’s nice to have something to cling onto in this darkness, and they let themselves fall into that fantasy for the escape it can give them._

_But all good things must come to an end._

_Niall hears the sound of boots on stone, and springs apart from Eoghan on instinct, knowing what will happen if the two of them are seen being even emotionally intimate in this place. They scramble to their feet, hear Perrie struggling to do the same on the other side of the cell, and the door is thrown open._

_At first, Niall had begged and pleaded for the guards not to take the others. A month or two ago, he would have thrown himself at the guards, and gotten a nice burst of pain from a stun baton or the butt of a gun for his trouble as he tried to take the place of whatever unfortunate soul they’ve decided to harvest this time._

_But, now, he can’t even bring himself to lift his eyes from the floor to watch as they take Perrie. Her choked sobs and screams for help can’t make Niall’s feet move so much as an inch. His fight is gone, and the only thing he has left to keep him going is the relief that it wasn’t Eoghan or himself this time._

_Perrie won’t be back. Not with the way she’s gone red with fever and gaunt from an inability to keep food down. Not when she lost so much blood after they lashed her entire back open for hours. She’s as good as dead already, but her life will spare Niall and Eoghan for a little while longer, and that’s all he can care about anymore._

 

“I said I’m fine, Harry.” Niall mutters, waving the brunet off. “It wasn’t an episode.”

“It looked an awful lot like an episode, Niall.” Harry sighs, settling down on the floor next to Niall. While Niall stares out at the London skyline to keep himself from thinking about the confined space he’s trapped in, Harry puts his back to it and leans to the side until his face is forcing itself into Niall’s field of vision. “It felt like the episode you had on the tube. It was just as scary.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall says quietly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you or anything, and I’m sorry if I hurt you when we fell, or when I was struggling against you. It wasn’t an episode, though. I was conscious of everything that was happening around me. That’s not how my episodes present.”

“If you were conscious of it, why did you keep fighting me?” Harry asks.

“Because I thought I saw a dead man.” Niall admits. “I saw someone who was in there with me, someone who– who mattered to me a lot, and the logical part of my brain shut down. I was here, though, and I knew what I was doing.”

“And the part afterwards?” Harry asks. “The part where you’ve been sitting here silently and staring out there?”

“Just remembering something.” Niall mumbles, shaking his head. “I’d admit it if I had an episode, Harry. It’s dangerous for me not to. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m going to worry.” Harry says softly. “But I trust you if you say it wasn’t an episode. I’ll take you home after we get off of this thing.”

“Sorry to ruin your celebration.” Niall sighs, scratching his fingers through Conan’s fur.

“It was supposed to be your celebration.” Harry says, shaking his head.

“I don’t have anything to celebrate yet.” Niall reminds him. “And I’d never choose to celebrate by putting myself in a confined area that I can’t escape.”

“Oh god.” Harry breathes out. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“You barely know what happened to me.” Niall points out. “I don’t expect you to think about things like that.”

“But I should have.” Harry groans, banging his head back against the glass. “On the tube, I assumed it was the dark that set you off. I didn’t think about the confined space. I didn't connect what I know with what I chose for us to do, and I shouldn’t have forgotten about it.”

“And I should have just refused to get on the bloody thing in the first place.” Niall tells him. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Harry. Seriously. Even I can’t blame you for this, and I spend an hour every day trying to figure out how you’re responsible for everything that’s wrong with my life. I have a running theory that you’re a witch, and you’ve cursed me.”

“You realize, of course, that you’ve just admitted to thinking about me for at least an hour every day.” Harry hums, smirking just enough to make Niall roll his eyes.

“Of course that’s what you would focus on.” Niall huffs. “Don’t feel special. There’s only like- Three other people in my life. Everyone else gets at least two hours. I spend more time thinking about Conan than I do about you. Hell, I spend more time thinking about footy than I do about you.”

“Yeah, but the other three and Conan are part of your daily life and have been around for a while now.” Harry grins. “You don’t see me much at all compared to them, but you still think about me half as much as you do the people who matter most to you.”

“You are an unbearable arse.” Niall grumbles.

“An unbearable arse that you think about for at least an hour every day.” Harry giggles.

“Why is it that, every time I start to think I can tolerate you, you insist on ruining that?” Niall mutters. “Why do you want me to hate you?”

“I definitely don’t want you to hate me.” Harry chuckles. “And I happen to have it on good authority that you don’t. Straight from the horse’s mouth, in fact.”

“I never said that I don’t hate you.” Niall scoffs. “I said that it’s possible that I don’t hate you as much as I want to think I do. There’s a massive difference between that and not hating you at all.”

“Boo.” Harry says, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. “Don’t ruin it when we’re having fun.”

“I hallucinated a dead man and literally lost my leg for a minute.” Niall scoffs. “What part about this is fun to you?”

“The part where we have banter.” Harry says with a shrug. “I enjoy our conversations. Especially the ones where you’re not out of your head on meds, and we aren’t fighting over something stupid, though those conversations are charming in their own way.”

“Do you get off on the abuse or something?” Niall snorts. “I don’t get you at all.”

“There’s not a lot of mystery in it, Niall.” Harry hums, leaning in so that he’s filling up Niall’s entire field of vision now. “I like you. It’s not that hard to understand.”

“You like me?” Niall asks incredulously.

“I do.” Harry grins, nodding emphatically. “And I want to be your friend.”

“Why?” Niall asks him. “Seriously- Why? I’m awful to you. Half of the time, that’s on purpose. Why would you like me or want to be my friend?”

“I just do.” Harry giggles. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

“Because it doesn’t make any bloody sense!” Niall groans.

“Oh well.” Harry waves him off. “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense. How much or little sense it makes is completely irrelevant to the facts, which are that I do like you, and that I do want to be your friend. You don’t have to understand why the Earth spins to live on it.”

“But I do understand why the Earth spins!” Niall hisses. “I have a degree in astrophysics, remember?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to understand.” Harry smirks. “Understanding doesn’t change the fact that you live on Earth, or that it’s spinning, or even why it’s spinning. Understanding why doesn’t even give you control over the fact that it’s spinning. Besides, isn’t the fun of the universe in the mysteries, not the explanations?”

“I saw a dead man twenty minutes ago, and I’m still not the biggest nutter in the immediate vicinity.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “That, or you’re definitely a witch, and you’re trying to steal my hair to hex me with.”

“Oh, Niall-” Harry hums. “How many times have you slept around me now? What makes you think I wouldn’t already have your hair if that’s what I was after?”

“Idiot.” Niall snorts.

“Oh, and, by the way, it wasn’t twenty minutes ago-” Harry tells him. “It was twenty nine, so we should probably get off of this floor so we don’t get trampled when people start disembarking in a minute.”

“It’s done?” Niall asks, looking around to find that they’re indeed only a few feet off of the ground now.

“Did my distraction work then?” Harry asks, climbing to his feet and then offering Niall a hand to pull him up.

“I guess.” Niall shrugs, almost refusing Harry’s aid before reminding himself that he has no dignity left today after his earlier escapade, and lets the brunet haul him back up onto his feet.

Niall thumps against Harry’s chest with the unexpected strength of it, and nearly bounces back off of him and falls, but Harry’s other hand is on the small of Niall’s back before he can even really begin to lose his balance.

“By the way, thank you for earlier.” Harry says, not relinquishing his grip even though Niall’s footing is firm again. “For stopping me from getting hurt, I mean. Thank you for keeping me safe, even though it was at your own expense.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out. “I– It– It was nothing.”

“Selflessness isn’t nothing, Niall.” Harry murmurs. “And neither is an instinct to protect people. They’re both surprisingly rare, actually, and very telling.”

“Telling?” Niall asks.

“That you’ve got a good and heroic heart.” Harry whispers, disentangling his grip from Niall’s to tap twice on the blond’s ribcage, over the organ he’d mentioned, before suddenly letting him go and walking away, adding, “I’ll go first again, in case you need someone to catch you if you go all clumsy.”

Conan chuffs beside Niall, bringing him out of a daze he didn’t even realize that he was in. The people in the capsule have been staring at him pretty much the whole time, even the ones who were pretending not to, but this is the first time that the looks they’re giving him make him blush, and he shuffles off after Harry with his eyes locked on the ground and cursing them all under his breath.


	14. Chapter 14

“No.” Niall whimpers when he hears the first rumblings off in the distance. “No, no, no, no, no.”

This isn’t supposed to be happening. He checked. He’s been keeping track all week, and this isn’t supposed to be happening. They said that it was going to pass to the south. It’s supposed to miss the city completely.

The sky was barely cloudy when Harry left half an hour ago.

Niall rushes through the house as best as he can, hitting the kitchen first, because that’s where the sound system is set up, for some stupid bloody reason that Niall doesn’t remember anymore. He switches it on, sets it to the Eagles playlist that he’d installed for these cases, and then sets about closing all the windows in the house. And, of course, all of them are open, because it’s August and it’s bloody hot, and Niall isn’t made of money, so he’s not about to run the air all day.

It strikes him as he goes through the house how unfair this all is. How it’s been almost a month since the London Eye, and how he’s barely had any incidents since then, but this has managed to sneak up on him. It’s bigger than a bloody city, and it’s managed to take him by surprise.

It happens at the worst possible time, when Niall is down to the final window, in the living room, and lightning cracks across the sky. Even with the music cranked up, Niall can hear it, can feel the snap of the elements from miles and miles away as the sound tears through him, and he feels himself slip before he can stop it.

 

_A sharp pain explodes in Niall’s face, and he wakes up with a gasp. He tries to scramble up to his feet, to obey the orders that have been set by months upon months of this imprisonment, but his hands and knees keep slipping in something. That’s a mistake. They don’t tolerate mistakes._

_His hands are wrenched out from underneath him as he tries to push himself up again, and his face smashes into the stone when his arms are tugged straight up behind his back._

_A metallic tang fills his lungs as he’s forced to breathe it in through his choked cry, and the memories flash through his mind in disjointed pieces._

_The guard coming for them._

_The blood spurting out of his neck._

_The gun glinting in the darkness._

_The blackness taking over Niall’s vision when he went down._

_Eoghan._

_He can’t process it, though. He doesn’t have time to put the bits of the puzzle back together before a boot stomps down on the back of his neck and his arms are pulled back even further so that it feels like they’re breaking._

_“So you are the last one left.” a horribly familiar voice sneers. “I thought you would die the first week, Niall. I find myself surprised, and that does not happen very often.”_

_“Eoghan?” Niall asks as best as he can through the pressure on the back of his neck crushing his throat._

_“He did not even make it out of the cave.” Scar growls. “Did you think he had escaped? Did you think he had managed to get out to go find your little cabin in the countryside?”_

_“What?” Niall asks weakly._

_“Surely you did not think this cell was free of listening devices.” Scar scoffs. “We have heard all of the conversations between you and your dead friends. Each and every one of them.”_

_That’s how they knew, Niall realizes. That’s how they knew whenever one of the group had worked out a plan. That’s how they knew when someone was thinking about rebelling, and why that person was always taken soon after. They had never been out of the range of their captors, even in the moments that they’d convinced themselves were private._

_That was just foolish, naïve hope._

_“His body has been burned and left in the sands for the birds to eat.” Scar tells him. “But, you – You are the last, so you have earned something truly special. Consider it a present.”_

_He orders something then that Niall doesn’t understand, but the meaning of which is made quite clear immediately. Niall is yanked up to his feet, though he can barely walk with his left one, and forced to march forward, slipping and sliding through the pool of blood coating the floor. The body of the guard is nowhere to be seen, and Niall wonders, for just a fraction of a second, what happened to him._

_Mostly, his mind is occupied with wondering where they’re going to take him._

_Struggle doesn’t even cross his mind. Eoghan is gone. He didn’t make it. There’s nothing left to put the fire in Niall, so he lets them direct him to his fate without any desire to fight against it. The pain in his face and arms and neck and foot doesn’t matter. The fact that he’ll never see his father again doesn’t matter. The fact that he’s only twenty four and he’s never made his mark on the world doesn’t matter. The fact that he’s not sure if the only time he’s ever loved someone was real or a coping mechanism doesn’t matter._

_None of it matters anymore. He’s finally going to be allowed to die now, and there’s nothing holding him back from being thankful for that._

_“Do you see that, Niall?” Scar asks, fisting his hand in Niall’s hair and yanking his head up._

_They’re at an opening of the cave system, looking out into the desert, and it’s not hard to figure out what he’s referring to. There’s a storm taking up the entirety of the horizon as far as Niall can see. It’s dark, and it’s powerful, and it’s coming at them fast._

_“Do you know how rare a storm this large is out here?” Scar asks. “I think it’s come just for us. It works out perfectly for me, and it gives me the chance to reward you for outliving all of your friends. Would you like that?”_

_“Please, just do it.” Niall whimpers. “Just kill me.”_

_“You’ve survived this long, Niall.” Scar sneers. “Do not beg for death. It will be granted in time. First, you must have your reward.”_

_He issues another order, and the guards start marching Niall towards the radio tower. He’s not sure why, because it would be an awful lot of work to climb to the top with him and throw him off. He can’t climb it himself, not when his left foot is destroyed the way that it is, with the bones sticking out through the skin, and the fact that he hasn’t been fed in four days now. He can barely walk, even with the support the guards are giving him with their hands under his arms._

_They get to the tower, and Niall is thrown face forward into the sand. He hears the distinctive rasp of rope rubbing against itself, and the panic starts to rise in his throat as he finally begins to understand. They aren’t going to kill him yet._

_“No!” Niall gasps out, pushing his upper body off of the ground. “Please! Please, just get it over with!”_

_The back of Scar’s hand finds the cheek that a boot had collided with only a few minutes before, and pain sears itself into Niall’s brain so hard that he can barely hear Scar growl out, “I told you not to beg!”_

_“Why won’t you just kill me?” Niall asks weakly, trying to curl in on himself before he’s forced back onto his knees with his arms stretched back behind him, bracketing one of the legs of the radio tower._

_“Because-” Scar says icily, crouching down and lifting Niall’s head up by his hair again. “That boy was my nephew, and your friend murdered him. I can’t make him suffer for it now, but I can make you, and that will have to sate my appetite for revenge.”_

_“It was me.” Niall breathes out. “Eoghan didn’t kill your nephew. I did.”_

_“Enough.” Scar spits out, taking ahold of the hem of Niall’s blood soaked shirt and tearing until he gets a long strip of it. He wrenches Niall’s jaw open, and ties it into his mouth as a gag. “Do not try and avoid your punishment by attempting to prey on my grief. You will die in the way that I have chosen for you. It will not be quick, and it will not be painless. You will not get a bullet, and no lie you tell will change that. The sands will rip the flesh from your bones and tear your eyes from your head, and the lightning will finish what the winds start.”_

_The rope is wound around Niall’s wrists, and then up and around his neck, keeping his back pressed along the metal leg of the radio tower. The sound of thunder rumbles close by, and Niall is left with nothing to do except watch the storm get closer and closer until the rain is pelting against his skin like needles and electricity is crackling in the air around him._

_He uses his knees to get enough leverage to pull his back away from the metal, but he can’t undo the knots or slip his hands out of his bonds. The best he can go about his gag is work it out of his mouth until it’s working as a thin mask to help stop the sand that’s flying into his nose and mouth. But, as much as it stings, Niall can’t help himself from looking up and seeing the lightning flashing closer and closer._

 

The living room is trashed when Niall manages to resurface. That’s the first thing that pierces through the fog of fear clouding over his mind. There’s broken glass everywhere because the coffee table has been completely upended and shattered. The chairs are flipped, and the lamp has been knocked off of the table, leaving the room lit eerily.

Bobby is on the floor a few feet away, but rain hits Niall’s skin, and his first priority becomes shutting the window. He hauls himself up with the sill, and pulls it down quickly, shutting the drapes because he’s got dampener panels to block out the sound.

‘Life in the Fast Lane’ is playing so loud it almost hurts, and that helps Niall’s heart rate start to come back down and let him figure out how to get to his leg without getting glass in his foot. He hops across the room, going around the edges and using the furniture to keep himself upright until he grabs Bobby and slips it onto his stump.

It’s only after he’s done all of this that he realizes that Conan is nowhere to be seen. Niall calls the lab’s name a few times, but Conan doesn’t come, and Niall begins to worry. That worry turns into full blown panic when Niall spots a smear of blood on the wall, heading up the staircase.

He moves as quickly as he can, thanks God that there aren’t that many steps, and heads straight for the door to his bedroom. Even if he didn’t have the trail of blood drops on the carpet to follow, Niall would still know where Conan has gone, because it’s the only door that’s open. A quick survey of the room leads Niall to the only conclusion. He takes Bobby off, leaning the leg against the wall, and he lowers himself down until he’s lying on his stomach.

Sure enough, that’s where he finds Conan.

“Hey, bud.” Niall says gently, reaching his hand towards Conan. “Sorry if I scared you down there. Why don’t you come out so I can take a look at-”

He’s cut off by Conan’s growl. It’s not something that he’s ever heard before, and the thought that it’s now being directed at him makes him feel so fucking guilty he’s got to shove it in a little box just to keep from slipping back down to where he was a few minutes ago..

“Hey, now-” Niall says past a gulp. “I know you’re mad, but-”

He reaches his fingers forward, but then Conan snaps at them. He falls short by several inches, but it’s enough to get the point across and Niall scrambles backwards until he hits the wall.

He inches back towards the bed, but Conan lets out another growl when he sees Niall move, and the blond stops. Whatever Niall did downstairs, Conan doesn’t trust him anymore. He sees Niall as a threat, so Niall can’t be the one to help him now.

He pulls his mobile out of his pocket and dials the number on the top of his list, biting his nails as it rings and rings and rings, but it’s never answered. Instead, Louis’ voice requests for Niall to leave a message. He repeats the process four more times, but the result is always the same. Louis never picks up.

Bressie is out of the country visiting family in Ireland, and Liam isn’t familiar enough with Conan to be any help, leaving Niall only one other option. He picks out the number and dials, waiting for the torturously long series of rings to be yet another disappointment when Niall needs someone, anyone, to help Conan.

But then he answers and asks, “Niall? Is something wrong?”

“Harry-” Niall breathes out. “It’s Conan. Please, I– I need you.”

 

“Conan, come out here.” Harry orders.

He doesn’t get the response he’s obviously hoping for, because Conan stays right where he is. At least he only whimpers this time, instead of barking or growling or snapping at Harry.

“What happened?” Harry asks with a sigh, turning to look at Niall.

“I don’t know.” Niall admits weakly. “I had an episode, and, when I came back, he was already up here. I think that I broke the glass in the coffee table, and one of the shards got him. I can’t get close enough to see, though.”

“He’s too far back for me to pull out.” Harry says, though it sounds more like he’s talking to himself.

“Can you lift the bed?” Niall asks.

“I think so.” Harry nods. “But, if he’s not coming out now, then he probably won’t do it if I lift the bed, either. He might not even be able to walk, if the glass is still in there, depending on where it is.”

“Lift the bed.” Niall tells him. “If you can lift it, I can grab him.”

“He’s already tried to bite you, Niall.” Harry points out.

“I’ll be fine.” Niall mutters. “Lift the bed. We have to get him to the vet. If he bites me, he bites me, but I’m not letting him stay hurt for any longer than I have to. He’s already been down there for an hour, but I can’t be the one to lift the bed. Bobby can’t handle that much weight, but it can handle enough to let me grab Conan.”

“Be careful.” Harry says gently, standing up to his feet and moving to the foot of the bed. “I’m ready when you are.”

Niall walks over to the side of the bed closest to Conan and says, “Go ahead.”

Harry reaches down and grips the footboard of the bed, grunting as he lifts it up. He can’t get it too high, but he manages to give Niall enough space to get in underneath and get a look at Conan.

As he thought, there’s a long sliver of glass sticking out of Conan’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to risk trying to take it out himself, or having Conan walk with it in, so he’ll have to pull Conan out instead.

The lab snaps at him when he reaches, clearly meant to be a warning, but Niall doesn’t flinch away this time. Conan’s health is at stake, and Niall won’t let Conan down like he’s let so many others down before.

Conan’s teeth are sharp when they sink into Niall’s forearm, but he doesn’t pull away. Pain he can handle. Niall is an expert in pain. So he takes it in stride and gets his hand on Conan’s handle, dragging the lab until they’re both completely clear of the bed.

“Oh my god!” Harry yelps once he sets down the bed, rushing forward and clapping his hands right next to Conan’s ear. The loud, sudden noise is enough to make Conan break his hold on Niall’s arm. “Niall, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Niall rushes out. “If he’ll let you pick him up, we need to get going.”

“Niall-” Harry says worriedly.

“I’m fine.” Niall repeats harshly. “It doesn’t hurt. Look at the glass in his shoulder. That definitely hurts. We need to go now.”

“Fine.” Harry sighs, reaching tentatively towards Conan.

Conan makes no move against him, and even cuddles into Harry’s neck once the brunet lifts him up. Good. If Harry couldn’t get Conan mobile, then Niall has no idea what they would have done.

“Is– Is it still storming?” Niall asks hesitantly when they reach the front door.

“The storm passed when I was coming into the city.” Harry tells him, speaking up a bit to be heard over the Eagles still blaring in the kitchen. “It wasn’t even raining anymore when I got here.”

“Okay.” Niall nods, grabbing his bag off of the hook by the door and slinging it over his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, and then a few more, before he finally says, “Okay, let’s go.”

 

“Niall, god damn it, if you don’t stop squirming around, I’m going to lose it.” Harry says flatly, leveling the blond with a glare. “Stay still.”

“It’s not exactly comfortable!” Niall hisses.

“You didn’t even react when he bit you, but this you have a problem with?” Harry asks incredulously.

“You are sticking things inside my body.” Niall huffs. “Things that burn.”

“I could just dump the bloody bottle on your wound, if you prefer.” Harry grumbles. “Then we could hope for the best, and you could stop acting like a brat.”

“I’m not acting like a brat.” Niall scoffs.

“You are.” Harry counters. “Refusing to let the nurses treat you.”

“They’re nurses for dogs.” Niall points out.

“And I’m not a bloody nurse at all!” Harry groans.

“And I was handling this myself until you barged in here and decided to do it.” Niall mutters.

“Because you were whimpering so loudly that I could hear you in the lobby.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “This kind of thing always hurts worse when you try to deal with it yourself. Honestly though, the bite itself should have hurt a lot worse than this does.”

“But it didn’t matter.” Niall sighs. “Pain like that doesn’t matter to me. I can handle pain if it’s for someone else, and I took that so that I could help Conan. The bite was nothing.”

“Niall, this isn’t just a scrape.” Harry says gently. “The nurses may have said that you don’t need stitches, but that doesn’t mean this bite is nothing.”

“Look in the mirror.” Niall mumbles.

He takes a deep breath before he grabs the back of his shirt and starts pulling his shirt up until it’s bunched on the back of his neck and the scarred expanse of his back is on display for Harry to see. Harry doesn’t gasp or wince, for his part, but there’s this moment where his breath hitches, and Niall feels like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. He’s only ever shown these scars to Louis before, besides the doctors who’ve treated him, and he can’t tell if that’s why it feels like the whole world stops for a minute when Harry tears his eyes away from the mirror to meet Niall’s.

“Compared to these, this bite is nothing, Harry.” Niall whispers. “Compared to my leg, this bite is nothing. On the relative pain scale of my life, this bite doesn’t register. I’ve dealt with much worse trying to take care of someone who mattered to me.”

“Eoghan?” Harry guesses. “That’s the name of the guy you hallucinated, right? Is he who you’re talking about?”

“Among others.” Niall says, forcing his eyes down from where they’re still locked with Harry’s. “There were ten of us to start with. I’m the only one who survived.”

“Niall-” Harry breathes out.

“Please don’t.” Niall begs so quietly that he can barely hear himself. “Please. You’re the only person who’s never treated me differently after finding out any of what happened to me. Please don’t take that away from me by pitying me now.”

“I won’t.” Harry murmurs, reaching back and tangling his fingers with Niall’s to force him to drop the shirt back down. “It doesn’t change anything, Niall.”

 

“If you just wait a few minutes, I’ll be back out with his stuff.” Niall mutters when Harry parks in front of his house. It’s the first thing that either of them have said to each other since Harry finished patching him up in the loo at the veterinary hospital.

“What are you on about now?” Harry sighs.

“I – I bought him a few things, so I thought you’d want to take them back with him.” Niall mumbles. “Unless that’s not allowed.”

“Christ.” Harry says, shaking his head. “We’re back on this? Again? Is it really necessary to do this for a third time?”

“I hurt him, Harry.” Niall whispers. “This isn’t me succumbing to anxiety or projecting my fears onto the situation. He got hurt because of me. I’m not safe for him to be around, and he doesn’t want to be around me. He made that clear.”

“He was scared and confused and hurt.” Harry points out. “I doubt he even knew what he was doing, Niall. Probably the only reason he recognized me is because my scent is so ingrained into his brain, since we’ve been together for two years. Before you try to abandon him, yet again, why don’t we wait and see how he feels when he wakes up?”

“I’m not– not trying to– abandon him.” Niall chokes out. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before continuing with, “I’m trying to protect him, Harry. I don’t want to let him go, but he shouldn’t be around me when I’ve done something like this to him. I’m too dangerous.”

“You didn’t do it to him on purpose, Niall.” Harry argues.

“Does intent matter when he had to get fucking surgery because of me?” Niall hisses.

“He had less than an inch of glass under his skin, which only caused superficial damage, and he only needed three stitches.” Harry sighs. “I’m not saying that what happened wasn’t bad, because it was, but can we at least talk this out before you try and do this again? Can we wait and see how he feels about you when he’s conscious before he just wakes up and never gets to see you again?”

“He’s family to you.” Niall says quietly. “Why would you want him to stay with me after what I did?”

“Do you know what happens to dogs who are returned, Niall?” Harry asks. “They act out. They refuse to listen to anyone, because their partner is no longer around. Then they get depressed. Then, for their own sake, they’re retired to the same facility that older service dogs are retired to when they can’t do their jobs anymore. Conan has worked so hard for this. He’s spent his whole life so far training to be partnered with you. Don’t take that away from him without seeing if there’s a chance that the relationship isn’t broken. Not unless you don’t want to work with him after he bit you.”

“Of course I do.” Niall mumbles, looking into the back seat where Conan is sleeping soundly, thanks to the medication from the vet. “We can wait, if you insist. But, if he wakes up and he still doesn’t want to be near me, you have to take him back, stop pushing me on him, and realize that he deserves better.”

“And if he does want to be near you, you have to stop using your own guilt as a justification to abandon him.” Harry fires back.

“Fine.” Niall agrees. “Bring him in, then. I’m not waiting that long out here in your car.”

“Alright.” Harry nods. “And you go turn off that music before I bring him in and it scares him. I can hear it out here, and I’m sure your neighbors don’t appreciate it this late at night.”

“It’s only eleven.” Niall snorts. “They only get pissed off if it goes after two and I keep it up this loud. We have a deal worked out though, because they know it’s a PTSD thing.”

“You do this whenever you have an episode?” Harry questions.

“No, I do it whenever there’s a storm.” Niall admits. “If it keeps going on too late, then I use my mobile and headphones, but that can run out of power pretty quickly, and my sound system has battery backup power, that way it keeps running, even when the power goes out. I just need something to drown out the noise of the thunder.”

“Oh.” Harry says quietly. “I thought it was just you rocking out or something. I didn’t realize it’s a coping mechanism.”

“Welcome to my personal hell.” Niall mutters, pointing up towards the sky. “Confined spaces, large crowds, the dark, loud or sudden noises, being grabbed from behind, being held down or having my arms restrained, and, most significantly, thunderstorms, though either lightning or thunder can also trigger me by themselves too. Certain smells can get me as well, but those are rare to encounter here. Thunderstorms are the big one though.”

“You-” Harry starts, but then shakes his head and just quietly says, “You should start heading in. I’ll grab Conan now.”

 

“I can’t tell what’s going on with him right now.” Niall sighs, looking down at his lap where Conan’s head is resting. It’s the third time in the last half hour since Niall finished cleaning up the room that he’s come to Niall for comfort, but that doesn’t seem to mean anything, because he gets up every five minutes and moves between Niall and Harry. It’s almost like clockwork. “I think he’s too high to tell what he wants.”

“Do you mind if I try something?” Harry asks, sounding a bit tentative.

“What?” Niall questions.

“I think he just doesn’t know how to deal with the two of us being so far apart, but still both being options.” Harry explains. “Maybe if I sit on the couch with you two, then he’ll stop moving every few minutes and actually settle down.”

“I guess.” Niall sighs.

“I don’t have to.” Harry says quickly. “It’s fine if-”

“I’m just very comfortable.” Niall cuts him off. “Now my arse has to settle into a different part of the couch.”

“I mean, you don’t have to move.” Harry shrugs as he climbs out of his chair. Conan lifts his head with a confused whine, watching to see if Harry’s going somewhere that he needs to follow. Harry moves over to the couch and takes the place next to Niall, sitting so close that their legs are pressed together. “There’s enough room here, as long as you’re okay with it.”

“Personal space isn’t really a problem for me.” Niall says quietly, dropping his head back against the couch to stare at the ceiling while Conan crawls forward so that he’s lain out on both of their laps. “In the cell, we were packed in like sardines. There were ten of us in a room half this size. No beds, no loo. Just the ten of us and a bucket that everyone gave a wide berth, so there was never any personal space until they started thinning the herd out and putting the rest of us to work. Unless they used the chains attached to the walls to make us stand up with our wrists and necks attached to the wall for a few days. There was space then.”

“You’re telling me a lot tonight.” Harry says softly. “You don’t have to, Niall.”

“I’m trying to work up to explaining what happened.” Niall admits. “Figure, if I start small, I can get to the point where I can tell you why what happened, happened.”

“But you don’t have to tell me anything.” Harry tells him.

“You drove back out here.” Niall whispers. “You helped me get Conan to the vet. You helped me with my arm. You didn’t take him away from me. You at least deserve an explanation.”

“No, Niall.” Harry says gently. “That’s not how this works. I don’t want you to tell me these things just because you feel obligated. If you want to tell me about it, then I’m here to listen, but I don’t want you telling me unless it’s because you want to and you trust me.”

“Wouldn’t have shown you my back if I didn’t trust you.” Niall admits. “Louis is the only other person who I’ve shown those scars to, except my doctors, and I didn’t have much of a choice there.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes out. “I– I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither was I, if I’m being honest.” Niall tells him. “I might have been out of my mind that day you came over, after the first time I hallucinated again, but I wasn’t lying. I don’t understand why, or how, but there’s something about you that makes me want to talk sometimes. Not all the time, but more than usual.”

“Any guesses?” Harry asks, voice sounding a bit breathless when he turns to meet Niall’s eyes.

“Like I said, you’re the only one who’s never treated me any differently after finding out.” Niall says quietly. “Bressie, Liam, Louis- They all thought about me differently than they did before they knew. And you probably will too, if I ever tell you everything, but you don’t right now.”

“How do you know?” Harry asks. “How do you know that it hasn’t changed what I think about you?”

“There’s a look in people’s eyes that they can’t hide.” Niall explains, feeling a bit breathless himself from the intensity of the eye contact. Harry’s staring, searching for something, if the power behind it is anything to by, and Niall can’t look away. “They always try to, but they can’t. It gives them away. I mean- I get it. I get why they think about me differently, because you can’t not once you know, but it still makes me feel small when they pity me.”

“It hasn’t changed how I think about you.” Harry points out.

“That’s because you only know a small portion.” Niall mutters, breaking the hold Harry has on his eyes and turning away.

“There’s nothing that you could say that-” Harry starts.

“You’re wrong.” Niall cuts him off. “There’s always something that can change the way you think about a person, Harry. There’s always something that they could have done or been that will shift your perspective and make you pity them or fear them or be disgusted with them. Not everyone has that kind of secret, but I do. I have something like that, and, if I ever tell you, you’re going to feel differently about me than you do right now.”

“I disagree, but I guess we’ll just have to see, if the time ever comes.” Harry says softly.

“I’ve got ‘Jailhouse Rock’ queued up.” Niall tells him, hoping the abrupt change of subject and distraction will tell Harry to drop this before Niall blurts out his sins just to prove him wrong. “I was going to watch it earlier, but then the storm happened.”

“That’s one of my favorites.” Harry beams. “Top three, easy.”

“I remember.” Niall nods, grabbing the remote off of the table. “You told me two weeks back when I was bitching at you about how awful ‘Harum Scarum’ was.”

“Even I can admit that not everything he ever did was gold.” Harry giggles, settling back against the couch. “But this one is.”

 

Niall startles awake to the sound of keys scraping in the lock to his front door, blinking away the sleep hanging heavy in his mind. The warmth surrounding him doesn’t help, and it isn’t until he tries to rub his eyes and feels his arm trapped under something that he starts to put everything together.

Louis walks into the living room to find Harry sleeping on Niall’s chest where they both fell asleep sitting up. Conan is still on the couch, but he’s now curled up in the space on the other side of Niall. And Niall remembers Harry falling asleep twenty minutes into the film, remembers draping his own arm around the brunet’s shoulder because it was starting to go numb trapped between them. But he doesn’t remember Harry’s leg coming up and wedging itself between Niall’s, or Harry’s hand slipping under the fabric of Niall’s shirt to rest on his stomach, or his own hand moving down to hold Harry’s hip.

“Shut the fuck up.” Niall hisses at Louis before he can say anything. “This is not what it looks like.”

“Are you okay?” Louis asks weakly, apparently completely disregarding the position he’s found Niall and Harry in as he comes over and drops down in front of the couch. “Please tell me that you’re okay. Please tell me that I didn’t fuck up this badly and let something terrible happen.”

“Conan got hurt.” Niall admits. “But Harry came back and helped.”

“Five more minutes.” Harry mumbles sleepily, rubbing his face against Niall’s collarbone and then burying it in his neck.

“Harry, wake up.” Niall grunts, giving Harry’s shoulder a shake. “You slept over.”

“Where are my pants?” Harry asks, springing up with his eyes wide. It takes him a moment to take in the situation, but he practically scrambles off of the couch once he processes it, rushing out, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

“Relax.” Niall sighs, stretching as he sits up properly from the uncomfortable angle he fell asleep in. “You were going to have to stay anyways. Conan is still coming down, if the fact that he’s still asleep is anything to go by. Probably should have slept in a bed though for your back.”

“I, um- I- I need to wee.” Harry mumbles, turning on his heel and marching out of the room a bit stiffly.

“What happened?” Louis asks quietly.

“When the storm started, it was really sudden, so I didn’t have time to take my Ativan.” Niall says quietly. “When I was closing the window, there was a big flash of lightning, and I had an episode. While it was happening, I must have flipped the table, and one of the shards of glass got Conan in his shoulder. He wouldn’t respond to me except aggressively, so I had to have Harry help me get him to the vet. He had three stitches, and now we’re waiting to see if he wants anything to do with me.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” Louis asks worriedly, looking at the bandage Harry had wrapped around Niall’s arm the night before.

“Conan bit me.” Niall whispers. “I think Harry is going to have to take him away.”

“And I think you’re wrong.” Harry says from the doorway.

Conan starts blinking awake as the room becomes too loud for him to sleep anymore, and then flops down onto the floor, stretching himself out. He rolls around for a minute, whimpering when he puts his weight on his hurt shoulder, and then hops back up onto the couch. Niall freezes in place, waiting to see what’s going to happen with one hand on Louis’ shoulder to push him away if Conan becomes aggressive again, but it ends up being pointless. Conan is the exact opposite of aggressive.

He ducks under Niall’s arm, crawling into Niall’s lap like he thinks he’s the size of a cat, and butts his head against Niall’s chest until the blond begins stroking behind his ear. Niall lets out a sigh of relief, and Conan takes that as an invitation to lay several wet, licking kisses on Niall’s arm around the bandage.

It feels almost like an apology, and Niall murmurs, “Not your fault, bud. It’s on me. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to be the smug prick who says, ‘I told you so’, but that’s exactly who I am.” Harry hums. “I told you so.”

“Can you take him out so I can talk to Louis?” Niall asks, barely suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. Harry helped him though. When Niall had no one else to turn to, Harry showed up, and that means that Niall doesn’t get to be a grumpy prick right now.

“Of course.” Harry nods. “Come on, Conan. Let’s go outside.”

Conan doesn’t so much as move an inch, staying firmly planted on Niall’s lap.

“Go on, bud.” Niall tells him. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Conan huffs, but does as he’s told, and, not for the first time, Niall wonders just how smart the dog really is. He seems to understand more than any dog Niall has ever met, and has more complex moods than any of them too.

“I’m so sorry, Niall.” Louis says once Harry and Conan go out the back.

“Why didn’t you pick up?” Niall asks. “I thought that was the deal. When one of us calls, the other answers.”

“I was at a film.” Louis says quietly. “I wasn’t thinking, and I just followed the instructions to put my mobile on silent, and I never turned it back up. As soon as I woke up, I saw the calls, and I came straight here, but I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Niall mutters, even though it’s not, really. Niall needed Louis, and he wasn’t there. But that’s the whole problem, isn’t it? Niall needed Louis. Niall has started letting himself get comfortable depending on someone, and that’s not an option. Not ever again. “I got by, Louis. You have a life. You don’t need to be on ‘Niall watch’ twenty-four-seven.”

“I should have been here.” Louis mumbles.

“You’re not my nurse, Louis.” Niall grumbles, detaching Bobby from his stump and leaning it against the side table so that he can plug it in and start charging it. He shouldn’t have forgotten last night, but he didn’t want to take it off in front of Harry. Harry may have seen it by now, but that doesn’t mean Niall’s comfortable with exposing his stump to him. “You’re my therapist. It’s not your job to take care of me. Your job is to get me to the point where I can take care of myself, and last night made it very clear that I’ve not been doing that.”

“I’m your friend too, Niall.” Louis says, his voice wavering a bit as his face falls. “Friends are supposed to be there for one another when they need each other. I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good friend or therapist last night.”

“Louis, it’s fine.” Niall says firmly. “Just stop.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Hey, you don’t have to bother coming out here today.” Niall sighs into his mobile, sliding into a seat at the counter and setting his coffee in front of him.

“Why not?” Harry asks. “I thought you needed me to watch Conan?”

“Well, that would be redundant, now.” Niall sighs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you’ve been so excited about this for weeks.” Harry mumbles. “Why aren’t you going?”

“Bressie just cancelled on me.” Niall mutters. “Said he’s not feeling well enough to go out on the green with me, so that’s that.”

“Louis?” Harry offers.

“Not if my life depended on it.” Niall scoffs. “Louis is brilliant at footy, but you never want him near any sport that hands you anything you could use as a weapon. That’s like asking for a disaster.”

“Liam?” Harry asks.

“Busy.” Niall answers. “And I can’t go alone, since Conan isn’t allowed on the course.”

“Which is complete shite.” Harry grumbles. “Those pricks shouldn’t just be allowed to deny him access to their course when the government says that you can take Conan anywhere.”

“It’s not a public course.” Niall reminds him. And it’s not that he doesn’t agree with Harry, because he does, but they’ve already had a bitching session about this, and it doesn’t change anything. Besides, it’s all irrelevant now anyways. “It’s a private club, which means that they don’t have to follow laws set for public access. Letting me in is already bringing down the whole place. They don’t want Conan shitting on their course, or something else like that, on top of letting the middle class amputee nutter onto their course.”

“Shit icing on a one legged cake.” Harry snorts, taking Niall by surprise enough to make him giggle. Harry hums at the sound and then says, “I know that I’m no Bressie or Louis, but what about me?”

“If you have the same level of skill with a golf club that you do with a hammer, we’d both die.” Niall chuckles.

“Well, I mean- You’d have to teach me, but at least you’d be able to go, right?” Harry asks.

“Would you even want to go?” Niall asks back.

“I told you that I wanted you to teach me some time.” Harry reminds him. “Besides, I just parked outside of your house, so you’re pretty much stuck with me one way or another, because I didn’t drive all the way down here for nothing. You didn’t really think about the time before you called to tell me that I didn’t have to come, did you?”

“I literally called you as soon as I rung off with Bressie.” Niall huffs. “It’s not my fault that he waited until an hour before my tee time to cancel on me. Come on in, then. I’ll call Louis and tell him, but we’ll have to drop Conan off at his.”

“I can do that.” Harry hums. “Do you want me to use the key from the planter, or are you going to let me in?”

“Let yourself in.” Niall tells him, sliding off of the stool and heading for his room. “I have to grab my hat from upstairs.”

He rings off after that, pulling up Louis’ number on his mobile as he gets to his door.

“Niall?” Louis asks sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just need to drop Conan off with you for a few hours.” Niall tells him, trying to decide which of his snapbacks he’s going to wear.

“I thought Harry was watching him today.” Louis mumbles over the sound of rustling sheets.

“Bressie cancelled on me, so Harry is coming instead.” Niall explains, choosing a grey one with a green Nike logo. “Which is probably going to be a disaster, but it’s either this or I don’t go. I need someone to drive the cart and make sure I don’t kill someone with a club if I have an episode.”

“Alright, bring him over.” Louis hums. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on your little golf date with Harry.”

“I’m going to shove my entire golf bag up your arse.” Niall growls, ringing off before Louis can say anything else.

He finds Harry in the kitchen, setting some kind of weird vase-like thing on Niall’s counter and humming under his breath.

“What the hell is that?” Niall asks.

“Coffee maker.” Harry tells him, setting a box next to it before flitting across the kitchen with a cup in his hand. “Got tired of the shite coffee you make, so I’ve bought you this to use from now on. Consider it an early birthday gift. Fuck, you look really good.”

“My coffee is not shite.” Niall huffs, ignoring Harry’s statement at the end there.

“Try this.” Harry smirks, shoving his cup up to Niall’s lips. And, well, it’s really fucking good, no matter how much Niall wishes that he could deny it. And he really can’t deny it after the moan that slips through his lips at the taste. Niall doesn’t even get to respond before Harry says, “And that’s not even fresh. I brewed it with mine before I left my house. Now say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you.” Niall mutters, taking the cup when Harry brings the blond’s hand up to grab it. “But you can’t go golfing like that.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, looking down at his outfit. “My clothes are more than expensive enough to be acceptable at a club.”

“You can’t golf in skinny jeans, Harry.” Niall sighs. “Half your swing is about hip and leg movement, and those are way too tight.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have a proper set of golf clothes in my car.” Harry pouts.

“Come on. I might have something that’ll fit you.” Niall sighs, nodding his head towards the staircase. “Maybe something that’ll leave more to the imagination than Louis’ leggings do.”

“They’re not that tight.” Harry scoffs, following Niall upstairs.

“I’ll give you twenty pounds if you can do a squat in those without your seam splitting and having your prick flop out.” Niall snorts.

Harry stays quiet for a moment before muttering, “No bet.”

“That’s what I thought.” Niall hums. “You okay with shorts? My trousers wouldn’t cover your ankles.”

“I don’t put in this much work on leg day just to hide them under baggy trousers.” Harry smirks. “I can work a pair of shorts as well as I can work these skinny jeans.”

“So, not at all.” Niall replies with a shit eating grin.

“Admit it. You know I’ve got great pins.” Harry giggles.

“They’re not your worst feature.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. He opens up his drawer and pulls out a few pairs of shorts, tossing them on the bed. “You can pick from those. I’ll find you a shirt, but it might take a second to find one that doesn’t make you look like you’re hulking out.”

“I’m not that much bigger than you.” Harry points out. “You’ve got pretty broad shoulders.”

“My hips are a lot narrower than yours, though.” Niall counters, digging through his shirts. “And all of my golf clothes are pretty tight.”

“Show off.” Harry hums, pinching at Niall’s hip and making him squawk. “Just because you’re all lean and solid doesn’t mean you get to make fun of my love handles.”

“I don’t pay enough attention to you or your body to even notice you have love handles.” Niall huffs. “And if you pinch me again, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Fair warning, spanking me isn’t much of a punishment.” Harry giggles, making Niall’s eye twitch.

“Here, this should-” Niall starts, turning around to find Harry in just his pants, staring down at the three pairs of shorts laid out on the bed. “Why are you naked?”

“I’ve still got pants on.” Harry waves him off. “I can’t decide what shorts to wear. The white ones will probably look the best, but I needed to see the shirt to know for sure.”

“Jesus.” Niall mutters, throwing the shirt on the bed before walking out.

In the last few weeks, ever since the night of the storm, there’s been a shift in Niall and Harry’s relationship. Niall, for his part, has gotten less antagonistic towards Harry, almost enjoying his company sometimes. Harry, for his part, has decided that that’s permission to insert himself into every aspect of Niall’s life, texting him and sending him pictures at least a few dozen times a day, and be incredibly cheeky at all times. Niall can’t decide if that’s better or worse than things were before.

On one hand, it’s nice having someone around who just takes everything about him in stride. Someone who lets him be himself, good and bad, and doesn’t make a big deal out of everything that Niall does or feels. On the other hand, Niall’s started seeing more of Harry, figuratively and literally, and the flirting is beginning to make Niall a bit- frustrated.

And it’s not that he wants Harry, or anyone for that matter, because he doesn’t. But the touching and the flirting are beginning to awaken things in Niall that he hasn’t cared about in a long time. And Niall isn’t blind. Harry is attractive. He’s got thick arms and a nice arse and a big bulge and a pretty face and legs that Niall would be jealous of, even if he still had both of his own. Harry is hot, and Niall is only now realizing it on more than an objective level.

It’s all very confusing, and, of course, he can’t bloody talk to Louis about it. Louis would never let him live it down. That leaves Niall to stew in his own frustration, trying to find ways to convert those feelings into something productive. The thing is, yoga and work and online poker and the dozens of other things that Niall has tried to distract himself with only work when Harry isn’t being cheeky and flirty and touchy. When he chooses to act that way – Which is pretty much whenever he’s around, which is pretty much all the time now – Niall is left with the urge to either pull his own hair out, or snog Harry a little bit.

And that’s what today was about. Niall was going to go smash some balls with a club and forget about Harry Styles making everything in his life more complicated. Of course, the universe has some fucking vendetta against Niall, so Bressie had to get sick, and Harry had to offer to go with Niall, and Niall had to agree to it. Maybe it’s less the universe having a grudge against him, and more a very deep sense of self-hatred on Niall’s part.

“He’s going to be the death of me. You realize that, right?” Niall asks, looking down at Conan, who’s curled up on the couch, milking his injury for as much laziness as he’s allowed. Niall’s guilt ensures that he could get away with pretty much anything. “Or I’m going to murder him. Either way, someone is going to end up dead very soon.”

“How do I look?” Harry asks as he enters the room. On Niall, the clothes are form fitting, but on Harry, they’re tighter than a fucking condom. He could count the hairs on Harry’s nipples from across the room if there were any.

“Ridiculous.” Niall sighs. “Like someone called and requested a golfing stripper. Is that my hat?”

“I figured I’d need it.” Harry shrugs. “You’re wearing one.”

“Christ.” Niall mutters. “Let’s get you some trainers, and then we’ll go.”

“I can’t wear my boots?” Harry asks with a pout.

“Not if you want your ankles to survive the day.” Niall scoffs. “Come on. I should have some in the closet that’ll fit you.”

“But your feet are smaller than mine.” Harry points out.

“I only have a foot.” Niall huffs. “Singular. And Bobby requires me to buy shoes that are bigger, because the foot is bigger than my real foot. They don’t let me just buy the one, so I have a few pairs that should be fine for you.”

He opens the closet in the hall and stands to the side, adding, “Anything on the left side should be good to fit you. I’m going to go grab some things for Conan to take over to Louis’, and then we can get going. We’re going to be pushing it to make the tee time anyways.”

“What about golf clubs?” Harry asks.

“You can use my da’s.” Niall tells him. “They’re a bit short for you, but they’ll be fine for today. Renting clubs is ridiculously expensive and time consuming at a club like this, and we’re already behind.”

“I get it. Time is a factor. I’ll drive like a maniac.” Harry snorts, tugging on a pair of trainers.

Somehow, Niall really doesn’t think that’s going to make the day go any faster.

 

“Wow, you’re fucking terrible at this.” Niall snorts, watching Harry miss the ball for the third time in a row.

“Then why don’t you get over here and show me how it’s done?” Harry asks, arching his brow in challenge with a playful smirk.

“You’ve watched my swing for the last seven holes.” Niall says, rolling his eyes. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, there’s nothing else I can do to teach you.”

“You could come over here and guide my swing.” Harry says, waggling his eyebrows. “Stand behind me and show me how it’s done.”

“This isn’t a film, Harry.” Niall sighs. “That doesn’t actually happen. Besides, I’m shorter than you, and I’m relearning how to swing too, since I have to switch to right handed.”

“I’m just going to keep missing and taking up time like a total wanker until I know how to swing right.” Harry hums smugly, as if he’s not just insulted himself. “Really, you’ll just be saving yourself time in the end.”

“Keep swinging, then.” Niall tells him. “You’re just closing the gap for me.”

The worst thing about today, even more so than the endless cheekiness, is that Harry is still ahead of Niall by five strokes. His technique is terrible, he’s not taking anything seriously, but he’s still winning because Niall has to basically re-learn his entire technique. That, and the fact that he can’t really pivot on Bobby at all. He’s worse than a beginner, because his body is used to doing this one way, and he’s having trouble re-training himself and fighting his instincts.

“Niall!” Harry whines, stomping his foot childishly. “Come teach me properly!”

“You are the most ridiculous fucking person I know.” Niall grumbles, walking over to the brunet. “And by far my least favorite friend.”

“Ah, but at least you’re willing to admit that I’m your friend, now.” Harry beams, reaching up and pinching Niall’s cheek. “I’ll call that progress.”

“Alright, show me your stance.” Niall mutters, slapping Harry’s hand away from where he’s soothing over the red spot he made with gentle strokes of his thumb. “And be serious about it, will you? No more of this messing about shite you’ve been doing, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to play. If you’re not, then just drive the cart and let me play.”

“I just need someone to teach me what I’m doing instead of grumping and ogling my legs and arse all day.” Harry smirks, getting into his stance.

“I have not been ‘ogling your legs and arse’!” Niall hisses.

“I’ve caught you staring like- Six times.” Harry hums. “No point denying it.”

“Jaysus!” Niall groans. “I’ve been watching your technique, you fucking narcissist! Eighty percent of golf is in your hips, knees and ankles!”

“Really?” Harry asks, looking a bit confused.

“They’re where all of the power in your swing comes from.” Niall explains, stepping behind Harry. He grips onto Harry’s hips and pulls them back a bit, making him curve his back in a way that looks more than a bit obscene, if Niall’s being honest. It wouldn’t be so bad if he weren’t so much taller than Bobby had been, but he is, so his stance needs to be a bit more exaggerated, which is incredibly frustrating. “Bend your knees just a bit. You don’t want your legs to be straight, or you’ll lose power.”

“Like this?” Harry asks, squatting down more than is necessary and pushing his arse back into Niall’s hips.

“What did I say about messing about?” Niall huffs, smacking Harry on the shoulder.

“It’s a legitimate question.” Harry says over his shoulder with a pout. “You said to bend my knees, but you didn’t say how much.”

“Not that much.” Niall sighs. “Just – Just stay still for a minute, and I’ll put your stance right.”

“Just going to maneuver me like a doll, then?” Harry hums. “If that’s what you’re into, I can be down for that.”

“One more time, and I’m going to take that club and beat you with it.” Niall growls. “Turn off the cheek for two minutes while I teach you how to do this properly. I haven’t got the patience to deal with you acting like a fool.”

“You’re no fun.” Harry pouts.

“Yeah, I’m sure that that’s news to you after almost three months.” Niall scoffs, pulling up on Harry’s hips until he’s more properly situated. “Stay like that while I check out your feet.”

Niall crouches down as best as he can, using Harry’s hips to support himself, but Harry lets out this little whimper, so Niall asks, “I’m not hurting you, am I? Am I too heavy?”

“No.” Harry says a bit breathlessly. “No, you’re fine. How are my feet?”

“Give me the club.” Niall orders, reaching his hand between Harry’s legs and laying the club on the ground when Harry passes it to him. He looks from the ball to the green, and then lays the club parallel to the direction that Harry will be shooting in. “Move your left foot forward until it’s touching the club, because your feet should be in a parallel line with the direction you want the ball to go, and then widen your stance until your feet are squared up with your shoulders.”

“Like this?” Harry asks, finally moving into the position that he needs to be in. If his arse weren’t right in Niall’s face, Niall might not be right on the edge of an aneurysm for the first time today.

“Yeah, you’re good on the lower half. Stay just like this.” Niall grunts, grabbing the club and using it to lever himself up off of the ground so that he doesn’t have to touch Harry’s hips anymore. It’s already too intimate. He hands Harry the club back and says, “Now show me how you hold it so that I can see what’s off about your alignment.”

“Why do you assume that something is off about it?” Harry asks with a huff.

“Because I have eyes.” Niall snorts, walking around to the side. “You’re bending your elbows too much. Try it like this-”

He grips Harry’s arms, straightening them out until they have just the slightest bit of bend to them, instead of the way that he’d been tucking his elbows against his sides. He then pushes back on Harry’s shoulders until they’re squared and nods.

“That’s much better.” Niall nods, taking a few steps back to watch. “When you hold the club, the flat part on the bottom should be parallel to the ground if you want the ball to go straight. Now take a practice swing for me, and I’ll see if you’ve got the hip, knee and ankle motion down.”

“Nobody has ever accused me of not having my hip motion down.” Harry smirks.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Niall fires back immediately. “Take your swing.”

Harry pouts again, but does as he’s told, and Niall groans. Harry’s swing is all wrong, which means that Niall is going to have to guide him through that too, which means more touching if he can’t get Harry to correct it through verbal instruction.

“Oh look, I was right.” Niall says dryly. “You’re completely off.”

“What did I do wrong?” Harry asks.

“You’re swinging with your arms.” Niall tells him.

“I don’t know if you noticed, because you were staring at my legs again, but my arms are what’s holding the club.” Harry huffs.

“Did you think I did all that with your legs for fun, Harry?” Niall asks, rolling his eyes. “I told you, the power in your swing comes from your hips, knees and ankles. You’re leading with your arms, and pivoting to follow. You need to lead with your hips and follow with your arms.”

“Like this?” Harry asks, getting back into position and trying his swing again. 

And Niall wants it to be right so badly, is ready to tell Harry that it’s right just so that he doesn’t have to get back in there and show him how it’s done. He’s still feeling Harry’s body under his palms, and he knows that he won’t stop for the rest of the day if he does it again. And Niall has a lot of secrets, keeps things to himself on a pretty regular basis, but he doesn’t consider himself a liar. Certainly not with someone that he considers, however begrudgingly it might be, a friend.

“No.” Niall sighs. “Get back into position. I’ll show you.”

“Finally.” Harry grins. “I only suggested that ten minutes ago.”

“You realize that, even if I’d done this then, your swing wouldn’t have been any better without me correcting your stance first, right?” Niall asks once he gets behind Harry. “No idea why you’re so eager to be taught like a dumb blonde in a film.”

“What can I say?” Harry hums. “I like being held.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Niall grunts, placing his hands on Harry’s hips. “We’re going to do this in slow stages, okay? You’re apparently a bit slow on the uptake, and I don’t want to have to do this a bunch of times. Now, you need to start your swing from here-”

He pivots Harry’s pelvis, ignoring the way his heartrate picks up with the way it grinds Harry back into him.

“I’m going to do that again, and you need to raise the club at the same time.” Niall instructs.

“Alright. Yeah.” Harry breathes out.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Niall asks, dropping his hands and backing away from Harry’s body immediately. “I can find a different way to hold you or-”

“No!” Harry rushes out. “No, I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything is completely fine. Promise.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like you’re overcompensating at all.” Niall mutters. “If anything I do makes you uncomfortable, let me know, yeah? I’ll figure out a different way to teach you if this isn’t working for you.”

“It’s working.” Harry tells him. “Come on. Get back to what you were doing.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes, placing his hands back on Harry’s hips. “Don’t be demanding when it took you until the eighth hole to ask for help.”

“How was I supposed to realize that I was playing badly, when I’m in the lead?” Harry asks, looking back over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Shut up.” Niall growls. “Just pick up your swing when I twist your hips, but don’t come back down until I direct you.”

He pivots Harry’s hips again, finding it hard to ignore the breathless little noise Harry makes and chalking it up to raising the club, since he said he’d let Niall know if he was uncomfortable.

“Okay, now, on the backswing, you need to turn your left leg in a bit, like this-” Niall explains, running his left hand down Harry’s leg and applying a gentle pressure until he’s got Harry in the right position. “Understand?”

“Hips lead the swing, and arms and knee follow.” Harry nods.

“Now, here comes the most important part.” Niall tells him, moving his hand back up. “The downswing is made up of three different parts, all at once. The twist, the pivot, and the swing itself. The hips make up the twist part, the pivot is all about your right ankle, and the swing is all in your left arm. So you need to go like this-”

He turns Harry’s hips back the other way, explaining, “Part of your problem is that you just go back to your starting position with your hips when you swing, and only twist your upper body. For me, that’s necessary, because Bobby can’t handle a twist like I’d need to do, but you’ve got two good legs, so when you swing the club, you need to pivot on your right ankle so that you’re carrying the momentum with your entire body. You lose power if your upper body is the only part moving.”

“Oh.” Harry sighs.

“Don’t worry. If you’ve been learning by watching me, then it makes sense that you wouldn’t see that.” Niall offers. “Now, you need to swing as hard as you can with your left arm, twist all the way until you’re at a ninety degree angle from your starting position when you’re done with your swing, and you need to make sure that you swing hard enough that the club ends up behind you again. Just wait until I’ve gotten clear, and then I want you to put it all together for me in another practice swing, alright?”

“Let me know when you’re ready for me.” Harry hums.

“Take your shot.” Niall tells him once he’s moved off to the side.

This time, Harry’s stroke is pure genius. He may be a bit slow to learn, but, once he gets it, he really gets it. Every part of his form is perfect, from the initial pivot back, all the way to the end. His hips and knees and ankle and arms all work in perfect tandem with Niall’s instructions, and it shows real promise.

“How was it?” Harry asks, looking a bit nervous when he turns back to Niall.

“Brilliant.” Niall grins. “Now do it again, but hit the ball this time, and let’s see how good of a teacher I really am.”

Harry beams and nods, getting back into position. He takes a moment, and then starts his swing, bringing the club back and applying everything Niall taught him. And his shot, as much as it pains Niall to say, is fucking glorious. Sure, there’s the pride of having taught Harry how to do it, but he’s basically guaranteed that he has no chance of winning anymore.

The ball flies down the fairway until it lands on the green and settles just a few meters from the cup.

“Christ.” Niall breathes out.

“Oh my god!” Harry squeals, jumping up and down excitedly. 

Niall barely turns in time to see it coming when Harry collides with him. He seems to be going for a hug, but his momentum is too much for Niall to counter, and they both go down in a sprawling mess of limbs.

“Excited, are you?” Niall asks once he regains his senses, peering up at Harry, whose face is only an inch or so away. 

And, God, he’s so close. He’s filling up all of Niall’s senses until all he can feel is HarryHarryHarry, which feels like a recipe for disaster. His body is firm and hard, pressed against Niall in a way that makes his head spin. But Niall can push that all down. He doesn’t have the urge to close the miniscule gap between them and see if Harry’s lips taste as good as they look. Not at all.

“Little bit.” Harry murmurs. “You okay?”

“It takes more than this to hurt me.” Niall mumbles. “But Bobby is sensitive, so I should take a look at him.”

“Shite- Yeah, of course.” Harry nods, crawling backwards off of Niall until he’s sitting in front of him. “Let me just-”

He grips Niall’s trouser cuff, looking up to him for permission, which Niall gives in the form of a jerky nod, and then pushes up until Bobby is fully exposed.

“Fuck.” Harry whimpers. “There’s a little red light blinking. What does that mean? Did I break it?”

“Let me see.” Niall, says, leaning forward until his face is hovering over his leg. “No, you didn’t break it. That’s the low battery light. Means I have about an hour left of power before Bobby dies on me. I didn’t realize that we’d been out here for so long.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes out. “I guess we should get going, then.”

“Yeah, I guess we should.” Niall sighs. “Which means that you win.”

“Beginner’s luck.” Harry grins. “We’ll have to try again some time, if you think you’re up to being any kind of competition for me.”

“Oh, you’re on.” Niall smirks.

 

“Jesus Christ, how long does it take to wee?” Niall sighs, checking his mobile again. Of course, no matter how many times he checks, time isn’t speeding up, and Harry hasn’t actually been gone that long. It just feels like it’s taking forever, which makes sense, with the ticking time bomb that is his leg. And it’s not that Bobby becomes useless when its battery dies. It just works like any other prosthetic with a free swinging knee-joint. The problem is that it’s really easy to lose balance that way.

“You might be the only bloke I’ve seen here today who looks like he’s serious about being here for golf.” someone hums, off to Niall’s side. The accent catches him off guard; Niall is so used to being caught in a sea of Irish and British accents that the Australian one feels like a shock to his system. “Either that, or you’re a very dedicated model for Nike.”

“Does that sort of line work for you a lot?” Niall scoffs, turning to look at the source of the voice and nearly swallowing his own tongue. The guy looks a bit like a knockoff of Harry, honestly. He’s got curly hair brushing down his neck, though he’s more dirty blond than the chocolatey color of Harry’s. His eyes are large and greyish green, lit up with amusement that’s mirrored by the dimples cratered in his cheeks. “Fuck, are you his brother or something?”

“My brother is twelve, so if you know him, that’d be a hell of a coincidence.” the guy grins. “Especially since he lives in Sidney.”

“Sorry. Shit.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “You look a little bit like someone I know. Is there something you need?”

“Pretty sure everyone always needs something.” the guy says with an easy smile. “It’s the whole basis of my job. Question is, do you need something from me?”

“Oh, no.” Niall tells him. “I’m not staying. I’m just waiting for my golf partner to get back from the loo, so we don’t need a waiter.”

The lad laughs at that, loud and unabashed with his head thrown back, and it reminds Niall of the first time he met Harry. It’s not supposed to be funny, but the bloke is laughing anyways, head thrown back and long neck on display while his toned arms hold his stomach.

“Wow, that’s a new one.” the guy giggles, wiping at his eye. “Do I look like a waiter to you?”

And, now that Niall actually looks, the guy definitely doesn’t look like a waiter. Not in his sinfully tight jeans and silk shirt and leather jacket.

“My name’s Ashton.” the lad tells him. “And I’m not a waiter. I’m a working boy. I keep people company, and you looked like you could use it.”

“Oh-” Niall breathes out, putting two and two together.

“There you go.” Ashton smirks. “Could you use the company-”

“Niall.” the blond supplies. “’M Niall.”

“Would you like some company, Niall?” Ashton asks. “My prices are reasonable. Especially for someone who can afford to come here and actually care about golf instead of the networking connections.”

“I’m not a member.” Niall admits. “My friend got me in for a round as an apology and a birthday gift combined.”

“Oh, a birthday boy.” Ashton hums. “Tell you what, Niall. Here’s my card. Call me if you want someone to help blow out your candles. My prices are on the back.”

“My birthday’s not for another two weeks.” is all Niall can think to say as Ashton tucks the card into his pocket for him. Then his brain fails again when he asks, “You have a card? That’s a thing?”

“It is for those of us who are worth the price of admission.” Ashton whispers in Niall’s ear. “Call me, birthday boy. I promise I’m worth it.”

His hand grazes over Niall’s chest, and then he’s gone. Niall is too stunned to even speak, too unused to anything like this happening to even know how to respond. He’s still sitting there silently, his hand trying to decide between pulling the card out of his pocket and pushing it back in, when Harry finds him a few moments later.

“You ready to go?” Harry asks, a lopsided smile painting his lips while he stretches, his muscles pushing obscenely at the tight fabric of Niall’s clothes.

“Yeah.” Niall croaks out. “Let’s go.”

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asks, nearly scaring Niall half to death after the half hour of silence that’s been smothering the car.

“No. Why?” Niall questions once his pulse calms back down.

“Because you haven’t said a word since we left the club bar.” Harry points out. “And I have a tendency to piss you off without even realizing what I’ve done wrong, so-”

“You’re fine.” Niall tells him. “I’m just thinking.”

“Anything I can help with?” Harry offers.

“No.” Niall mutters. Harry, of all people, can’t help. Because Harry is the source of Niall’s growing sexual frustration, and it’s beginning to drive him mad. “It’s my own problem.”

“Do you want to stick around a bit with Louis before I take you home?” Harry asks, pulling up in front of Louis’ house. “See if he can help?”

“No!” Niall squawks. 

Louis would be worse than Harry, if that’s even possible. He’d probably put on Barry White and lock the two of them in his bedroom if he knew that Niall was attracted to Harry. Fuck, he’d probably slip condoms under the door too.

“Alright.” Harry says quickly. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Niall sighs. “It’s just not something that I want to talk about. I’ll figure things out on my own.”

“I don’t like seeing you like this.” Harry murmurs, putting his hand on Niall’s leg. “If there’s a problem, you should let someone help. You don’t have to deal with everything alone, Niall. You’ve got people in your corner. I’m in your corner.”

“I know.” Niall says quietly, flicking his eyes nervously down to Harry’s hand before locking them on the road. “This isn’t me being stubborn. It’s just a temporary thing that’s popping up, and I’ll figure out how to fix it. It’s not a real problem. It’s just an inconvenience. I’d get help if I needed it.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to give you a little relief, yeah?” Harry requests. And the sentiment is sweet, but the way he’s phrased it, combined with his hand on Niall’s thigh, makes the blond’s eye twitch. “Even if you just need a distraction.”

“The only distraction I need right now is to take Conan home, make some lunch, and watch footy until I forget that I lost to you.” Niall snorts, trying to diffuse the tension that’s building up under his skin from Harry’s touch.

“We could pick up some pizza on the way to your place.” Harry grins. “I promise not to rub it in that I won.”

“Fine.” Niall agrees with a roll of his eyes. “But I’m paying for the pizza.”

“Obviously.” Harry smirks. “Loser buying the winner lunch seems fair.”

“I hate you!” Niall cackles, smacking at Harry’s arm. “Let’s go get the dog before I decide to grab my clubs from the boot and beat you with them.”

“You’d need my keys for that.” Harry hums, climbing out of the car. “And you’re going to have to choose something a little more in my wheelhouse if you want to punish me. I’m sure I can scrounge up a paddle or a riding-crop if you aren’t satisfied with just your hands.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Niall mutters under his breath, forcing himself to calm down before Harry opens up the door for him. “Have you considered not being fucking ridiculous?”

“What’s the fun in that?” Harry giggles, holding out his hand, which Niall reluctantly takes. 

The less he makes Bobby work, the longer his battery will last. He’s really got to get Liam to order him a spare battery pack for times like this. Not getting to finish even half a round of golf is ridiculous. Of course, if they hadn’t spent so much time hunting down the balls from his and Harry’s wild shots, they probably would have gotten further along.

“The fun is in not getting strangled by me.” Niall grumbles as Harry helps him up.

“You assume I’m not into breath-play.” Harry grins.

“Do you have a cheeky response to everything I say?” Niall asks, walking up to Louis’ door and pulling out his keyring to find his copy of Louis’ key.

“I guess you’ll have to keep coming up with things to say, and see how I respond, won’t you?” Harry hums, leaning against the doorframe and smirking cockier than ever.

“I’m going to set you on fire.” Niall says flatly.

“I can think of better ways to keep warm.” Harry returns immediately.

“I’m just not talking to you anymore.” Niall sighs, shaking his head as he opens up Louis’ door. 

As soon as they step inside, the sound of moaning is very clearly evident, loud and high and desperate, accompanied by the obscene and distinct sound of skin on skin. 

“Well that’s an interesting way to greet guests.” Harry snorts.

“Jesus Christ. He must be watching his porn with the surround sound on again. Wait here.” Niall mutters. Unfortunately, this is not the first time that Niall has had to deal with this situation.

He walks down to the sitting room, pushing open the door as he starts to say, “Tommo, you’re going to scar all the kids around-”

The words die in his throat with a choked gasp at the sight that meets his eyes.

“Oh god! Right there, Li!” Louis groans, pushing back against Liam’s hips that are meeting his ass at a furious pace.

“What the fuck?” Niall yells, covering his eyes to keep from seeing any more. “What the fucking fuck?”

“Oh fuck!” Louis squawks, followed shortly by the sound of something crashing to the ground. “Niall! What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking up my dog.” Niall says icily, turning away from the room. “And apparently interrupting whatever the fuck this is.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asks, rushing over to the room and then blushing when he sees what’s happening. “Oh- Oh wow. That- Wow.”

“I’m being betrayed by my best friends.” Niall mutters.

“Niall- Fuck- It’s not-” Louis stammers.

“Where’s Conan?” Niall cuts him off.

“Niall, please- Can we talk about-” Louis tries.

“Where the fuck is my dog?” Niall roars, slamming his fist into the door.

“He’s in the back garden.” Liam says quickly.

“Harry, please go get Conan.” Niall requests. “The door is back through the kitchen, which is back that way. I’ll meet you out front.”

“Don’t hit anything else.” Harry murmurs, taking Niall’s hand and tucking it down by his side. “Please. I’ll only be gone a minute.”

“I won’t. Just hurry up.” Niall says quietly, turning and heading back for the entrance.

“Niall, wait!” Louis calls after him, accompanied by the sound of bare feet on a wooden floor. He grabs Niall by the shoulder and says, “Niall, stop.”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Niall snarls, knocking Louis hand away and turning on him furiously. “Get the fuck away from me!”

“Niall, please- Please just let me explain!” Louis begs, covering himself with one hand and clutching at his chest with the other.

“No!” Niall growls. “You and I are completely done! Don’t talk to me, don’t text me, and don’t consider me your fucking patient anymore! I can never fucking trust you again!”

“Niall-” Louis tries again.

“Two people!” Niall yells. “I asked you not to fuck two people in the entire world! Bressie and Liam! You could literally fuck anyone else, but no- You just had to pick one of the few other people in my entire life! Well, congratulations, Louis. You just cut the number of people I have left down to Bressie and Harry. Thanks for that. Thanks for proving to me that I was never really your fucking friend. I was just a patient, and you just made that plain as can fucking be.”

“That’s not fucking true!” Louis snaps.

“Niall, you’re not being fair.” Liam says, coming up behind Louis. At least he’s had the decency to put his trousers back on instead of just cupping his junk like Louis.

“Fuck you!” Niall spits out. “Fuck both of you! Or how about you go ahead and do what you were doing, and just go fuck each other!”

“Niall, I think it’s time to go.” Harry says, walking out the door with Conan at his side, and the bag of Conan’s supplies slung over his shoulder. “Before you say something you regret.”

“I’ve said all I have to say.” Niall mutters. “And I don’t regret a bit of it. That would mean that there’s still a relationship to be salvaged here, and I have no desire to do that.”

“After everything he’s done for you - that we’ve done for you - you’re going to just cut us out of your life?” Liam asks.

“You two decided to cut yourselves out of my life when you started sneaking around behind my back.” Niall tells him.

“At least let us explain ourselves.” Louis requests again.

“Were you with him?” Niall asks. “The night of the storm - the night that I needed you and you weren’t there - were you with Liam?”

“Yes.” Louis admits quietly.

“Is he the guy you’ve been seeing since I got back from getting Conan?” Niall asks.

“Yes.” Louis says again.

“Then that’s enough explanation.” Niall says flatly. “It’s been almost three months, and you’ve been hiding this from me the whole time. There’s no explanation that can take that away, Doctor Tomlinson.”

“Niall, please don’t do this.” Louis whispers.

“Mail me my house key in the next few days, or I send you the bill for a locksmith to change them out. Your choice.” Niall tells him, turning towards Harry’s car.

Harry rushes to get Conan in the back seat and the bag in the boot, but Niall barely makes it until they take off before he starts sobbing quietly against the window. And when Harry takes Niall’s hand in his own, Niall doesn’t fight it. Half his world just disappeared out from under him, and he needs something- anything- to hold onto now.

Neither of them say anything for the entire drive back to Niall’s, just sitting is near silence while Niall tries to stop his inevitable breakdown from cascading completely until Harry isn’t around to see it. It feels like trying to stop an avalanche with his bare hands.

“Niall, we’re here.” Harry says gently, squeezing the blond’s hand as they pull up in front of his house. “You go ahead and take Conan in. I’ll take care of all the stuff in the boot.”

“Thanks.” Niall mumbles blankly, opening up his door and climbing out. He opens up the back door for Conan, and then leads the lab up to the house.

He fumbles with his keys for a moment, needing to take a deep breath before he can try inserting it in the lock. He comes close, only missing twice before a large hand wraps around his and pushes it in.

“I’ve got you.” Harry says softly, breathes the words out so that they ghost over the back of Niall’s neck, and it makes him shudder. “Go sit down. I’ll be back in in a minute.”

Niall does as he’s told, grateful for the instruction because his mind feels like it’s been covered in fog. He feels like he’s lost the rest of his limbs.

He’s been annoyed with Louis before, cut him off for days at a time before, but he’s never actually considered walking away and never speaking to him again. He’s never considered what it would be like to lose two of the only people he has that he considers friends. He’s never considered what it would be like to lose everyone he cared about again, because he didn’t think that the universe could possibly be so cruel as to do it a third time. He didn’t consider that, after John and Dan and Sandy and Josh and Jesy and Jade and Leigh-Anne and Perrie and Eoghan and Bobby, his karma was still dirty enough to make him care about someone, only to lose them.

He didn’t consider that he had it in him to be the one that took them from himself, either.

“Niall, are you okay?” Harry asks gently, pulling Niall out of his head when he crouches down in front of the blond.

“Do I look okay?” Niall mutters.

“Were– Are you in love with one of them?” Harry asks. “Is that why you’re so upset?”

“No.” Niall says flatly. “I’m upset because the person I thought was my best friend has been lying to me for months. And, if they’d told me- I would have been okay with it. I would have been pissed off, yeah, but I would have been happy for them eventually, as long as they were happy. I don’t– I don’t trust people easily anymore, and he knows why, but he did this anyways. He chose to lie to me. He chose to keep this a secret. He took away my ability to trust him, and I can’t forgive him for that.”

“Niall-” Harry says softly, cupping his cheek. “Maybe you should take some time and cool down, and see how you feel in the morning. I could st-”

“You should go.” Niall mutters, turning his face away from Harry’s touch before he can finish his offer to stay.

Because, the truth is, Niall would take him up on it. He would let Harry stay. He would let Harry be his knight in shining armor. He would let Harry fill in all the cracks racing through him right now, and he can’t do that. He can’t let Harry be the strength to his weakness, can’t fall into Harry’s depths, because he won’t be able to come back up for air again.

He knows that from experience.

“I’m not leaving you alone.” Harry murmurs, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together.

“I won’t be.” Niall tells him. “I’ll call someone else. It just can’t be you.”

“Why not?” Harry asks weakly.

“Because it can’t.” Niall breathes out. “Please, Harry- Just go.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” Harry questions.

“Please.” Niall whimpers, his lungs tight from the implications on the tip of Harry’s tongue. “Don’t make me cut you out too, Harry.”

“Alright.” Harry agrees, breathing the words out over Niall’s lips. “I’ll go, if that’s what you need. Promise me you’ll call me if you need me.”

“I promise.” Niall tells him.

“I’ll see you soon.” Harry whispers, leaning in a bit until their noses are brushing and their lips are only separated by a hair’s breadth. Niall’s breath hitches in his throat, and he’s not sure what outcome he’s hoping for, but Harry decides for the both of them, pulling away and standing up. “See you around, Niall.”

Niall doesn’t respond, staying frozen on the spot until he hears the door close behind Harry when he leaves.

He considers calling Bressie for a moment, but the last thing that Bressie needs when he’s sick is for Niall to drag him out of his house just to be with him. He pulls his mobile out of his pocket, trying to think of someone, anyone, who he can call that’ll make it so that he wasn’t lying to Harry. His answer comes in the form of a card falling out of his pocket, landing on the floor with a number staring up at him.


	16. Chapter 16

“Do you need money for a cab?” Niall asks, stepping aside to let Ashton in.

“I drove myself.” Ashton hums. “And I roll the cost of transportation into my prices. That’s just good business.”

“You’re very blunt.” Niall says quietly. “I always thought people in your profession were a bit more- more-”

“Subtle?” Ashton asks with a smirk, running his fingers down Niall’s arm. “I can be, if that’s what you want. You just seem like a bloke who prefers frankness.”

“We’ve spoken for a combined total of a minute and a half.” Niall points out.

“Reading people is the most important skill necessary for my job.” Ashton hums, leaning back against the wall. “I know you’re probably thinking that it’s how to give the best head of someone’s life, or how to pretend to like gross clients, or something like that, but it’s not. It’s the ability to look at someone and know what they need without them having to say it.”

“And what do I need?” Niall questions, arching his eyebrow.

“Control.” Ashton murmurs, eyes locked with Niall’s. “Companionship. Distraction. Release. You need something - someone - to be just what you need right now. Nothing more, and nothing less. You need something that won’t leave a mess behind when you’re done, but that you can fall into for a little while.”

“Can you give me that?” Niall asks.

“I can.” Ashton answers with a nod.

“I’ve never done this before.” Niall admits. “I– Do you stay the night?”

“I can, if that’s what you want.” Ashton tells him. “Though I generally require forty-eight hours’ notice if that’s going to be the case. I can make an exception tonight though, because I happen to be free. For a full twelve hours, it’s fifteen-hundred pounds.”

“Jesus Christ.” Niall mutters, shaking his head.

“It’s one-fifty an hour, if that’s too expensive for you.” Ashton offers.

“No, I’ve got the money.” Niall says, dropping his head back against the wall. “I assume you only take cash?”

“It’s twenty-sixteen, Niall.” Ashton laughs. “I have a card reader, if you want to go about it that way. Shows up as a massage service on your bill, if you’re worried about that. Cash is also acceptable.”

“Cash would be better for me.” Niall tells him. “Do I pay you now, or after?”

“Half up front, half when I leave.” Ashton explains. “And it’s up front on party favors, if you want them.”

“Party favors?” Niall asks confusedly.

“I offer weed, coke, ecstasy, oxy, and poppers.” Ashton chuckles. “Oh, and Viagra. I don’t deal in anything hard, though, and I won’t put it in my body. No meth or crack or heroin. If that’s your deal, I can recommend some hustlers that deal and are up for that.”

“Jaysus, no!” Niall hisses. “Do I look like a junkie to you?”

“You look like someone who needs to relax and doesn’t know how.” Ashton replies with a shrug. “Personally, I’d recommend some bud. You look like you’re about to burst out of your skin, and I can only do so much to take care of that.”

“I’ve never done that before either.” Niall admits. “I’ve never done anything like any of this before.”

“I can tell.” Ashton hums. “There’s no obligation here, Niall. You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to. We haven’t done anything yet. I won’t even charge you for the petrol it took to drive out here if you just want to call this off.”

“I don’t want to.” Niall mutters.

“What do you want, Niall?” Ashton asks, stepping forward until they’re only a few inches apart.

“I want to stop thinking about my life for tonight.” Niall whispers. “I want to forget about my problems for a little while.”

“I can help you do that.” Ashton murmurs, resting his forearm on the wall beside Niall’s head and leaning in until Niall can only breathe the intoxicating scent of his cologne. “All you have to do is say ‘yes’.”

“Yes.” Niall breathes out, eyes flicking between Ashton’s lips and eyes. 

His lips aren’t the right shade of pink, and his eyes aren’t green, they’re hazel. His fingers are thicker and his hair is shorter and his front teeth don’t have that slightly rabbit-like length to them. His arms aren’t covered in a mural of tattoos. His voice isn’t as deep or his speech as slow or his accent right. He doesn’t make Niall want to be vulnerable. He’s not Harry, but that’s a good thing. 

Right?

“Can I kiss you?” Ashton asks.

“Please.” Niall whimpers, the need to touch and be touched too all-consuming after today to care about the desperation in his voice.

It’s slow at first, once Ashton’s lips meet his own. Not like Niall expected at all, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t good. Ashton’s lips are soft, tender in a way that makes Niall feel like he’s melting. No matter how close he and Harry were earlier, he hasn’t actually felt anything like this in almost two years now. Not since the last time that he saw Eoghan, and the thought makes his breath catch in his throat.

“Not okay?” Ashton asks, pulling back a bit. “Some people don’t want that. It’s your choice.”

“No, it’s just– It’s just been a really long time.” Niall mumbles. “For anything.”

“How long?” Ashton asks.

“Seventeen months since the last time I kissed someone.” Niall admits. “Over twenty-one since- Since I did anything more.”

“It’s like riding a bike.” Ashton chuckles. “And, depending on how much of my time you want to buy, we’ll have plenty of time to get you reacquainted with it.”

“I– I’ll go get the money.” Niall says quietly. “I think there might be a few beers in the fridge, if you want a drink. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Ashton hums. “Do you have somewhere that you want me to wait?”

“Um- You can go to the kitchen, or the sitting room.” Niall offers. “My dog is in the sitting room, but he’s really sweet, so you don’t need to worry about him biting you or anything.”

“I love dogs.” Ashton grins.

“It’s through here.” Niall says, leading the way and opening up the door to the sitting room. He never normally closes it, but he didn’t know if Ashton might be allergic, so he wanted to make sure he was okay with it first. “Conan, this is Ashton.”

“Oh, you’re a gorgeous one, aren’t you?” Ashton coos, squatting down to meet Conan. 

“You behave while I run upstairs, yeah?” Niall hums, scratching behind Conan’s ear.

“Of course.” Ashton smirks. “I don’t misbehave until I’m paid to.”

He may not be Harry, but he’s certainly got the cheekiness down.

Niall rolls his eyes, but knows he can’t fight the blush staining his cheeks, so he says nothing as he walks out of the room and up the stairs. He’s got a stash of cash in his room, a few thousand pounds in what his father would have called a ‘rainy day’ fund. And he knows it’s a bad idea, but that doesn’t stop him from counting out seven-hundred and fifty pounds before he closes the hollowed out copy of the bible that his father had found so humorous.

Niall’s pretty sure it was just a sort of ‘fuck you’, directed at his hypocritically pious mother.

“You said fifteen hundred for the night?” Niall asks when he returns to the living room, finding Ashton playing on the floor with Conan and a rope toy. “Half up front?”

“Unless you want any extras.” Ashton nods. “Party favors, more people, certain kinks, recording it- Things like that.”

“No. No, I don’t think any of that applies.” Niall mumbles. “But there is something you should know, I guess. Might raise the price for you.”

“I’m not going to charge you more for being an amputee, Niall.” Ashton tells him.

“How did you know?” Niall asks, looking down at his leg. He’d changed into joggers after calling Ashton, so the seam of his cuff isn’t visible. He’s even wearing a slipper so that the ‘foot’ isn’t a giveaway.

“You’re not my first.” Ashton says softly. “There are a few clues. You’re more cautious about your left leg when you walk or lean, your slippers are different sizes, and Conan has an assistance-dog tag on his collar.”

“Are you a prostitute, or an inspector?” Niall asks with a sigh.

“I prefer the term ‘escort’, but, no, I’m not a cop.” Ashton chuckles. “Observation is key in my work, though. I have to be able to tell if someone will make a worthwhile and safe customer.”

“What do you mean ‘worthwhile’?” Niall asks.

“I mean, if someone is just looking for a quick fuck, they generally aren’t looking for someone like me.” Ashton hums, leaning back against the couch. “I’m not the kind who climbs in a car and blows someone for ten pounds. I don’t have a street corner, and I don’t have a pimp. I choose my clients, and I go beyond what a common hustler can give them. Like you- You’re not just looking for an orgasm with another warm body, are you?”

“No.” Niall admits.

“Before you hand over that money, and we make this official, I have to ask- Are you with the guy from the club?” Ashton questions. “I have no problem with it either way, and I won’t judge you for it, but I find that most clients who cheat end up feeling worse by the end of our time together.”

“He’s just a friend.” Niall mutters, shaking his head.

“Is there anyone else?” Ashton asks.

“Do you think it would have been a year and a half since I’ve kissed someone if I were in a relationship?” Niall asks. “Why are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“I’m not.” Ashton tells him, standing up off of the couch and striding over to him. “I just want you to be absolutely sure that this is what you want before you go ahead with this. I don’t do refunds. That half will buy you the first six hours, but if we even go to six hours and one minute- even if that’s all we go to- you’ll need to give me the other half. A full night gets you a discount of-”

“Approximately seventeen percent off the hourly rate.” Niall supplies.

“Exactly.” Ashton nods. “So I lose money at a certain point, but the continuous hours make up for time that might not have been profitable for me in the first place.”

“I get the business side of things.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “You don’t have to explain it to me as if I were a child.”

“I just want you to fully understand that, once you hand me that money, it’s not coming back to you.” Ashton says. “It doesn’t matter if twenty seconds afterwards, you decide that you can’t go through with it. Once it’s in my hand, it’s mine.”

“So what’s to stop you from taking my money and leaving?” Niall asks.

“You could always sic Conan on me.” Ashton grins. 

“I could try.” Niall snorts. “But he never does it when I ask him to.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” Ashton murmurs. “I know it’s kind of old-school, but my word is my bond. I’m not ashamed of what I do, and I don’t want to give myself a reason to be. Sex isn’t shameful, but stealing is.”

“Moment of truth, then.” Niall breathes out, reaching forward and tucking the notes into the pocket of Ashton’s leather jacket.

“Now the fun can begin.” Ashton smirks.

“Right now?” Niall asks with a gulp.

“We’ll work you up to it.” Ashton chuckles. “We’ve got until seven tomorrow morning. I can go as many rounds as you want before then, but you said it’s been a while, so we should probably pace ourselves.”

“How- How does this usually go?” Niall asks.

“First, you should tell me your boundaries.” Ashton explains, leading Niall over to the couch and sitting down with him. “What do you like? What’s absolutely off limits for you?”

“I don’t want to be held down or restrained.” Niall says quickly. “I can’t- I can’t handle being trapped in any way. And I don’t want you to focus on the leg at all.”

“Alright.” Ashton nods.

“And you should know that I have PTSD.” Niall sighs. “I doubled my dose of anti-anxiety meds for tonight, but, if I have an episode, I won’t know what’s happening until I’m out of it. I – You don’t have to stick around if that happens, but don’t call an ambulance for me unless I hurt myself.”

“Is there anything that I should do if that happens?” Ashton asks.

“Just give me some space, and don’t touch me. I’m generally only violent in an episode if someone tries to grab me or something.” Niall sighs. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine.” Ashton says gently, brushing the backs of his fingers against Niall’s arm. “Let’s try not to let you get to that point, but, if it does, it’s not going to scare me off, Niall.”

“Like I said, I won’t blame you if it does.” Niall mumbles.

“I thought I was here to help you relax, not to stress you out more.” Ashton murmurs, tracing Niall’s arm up to his neck with a touch so soft that it almost can’t be felt, and somehow makes Niall shiver all the same. “I don’t recommend getting too in your own head right now.”

“And what would you recommend?” Niall asks.

“I-” is all Ashton gets out before Niall’s stomach gives a loud growl, which makes the blond flush bright red, and Ashton giggle out, “I would recommend having something to eat.”

 

“Be honest- Is this the worst time you’ve ever had with a client?” Niall asks, looking at Ashton across the counter.

“You’re not actually a client.” Ashton hums. “You’re a customer. And, no, it isn’t. Not for either, by a longshot.”

“What’s the difference?” Niall asks.

“A customer is someone that I don’t have an established relationship with.” Ashton explains. “I may see them more than once, but I don’t see them regularly. A client is someone that I have a standing date with.”

“Is that what you call them?” Niall asks, flushing for what feels like the hundredth time of the night. God, he feels so fucking naïve sitting here in this situation.

“Dates or sessions.” Ashton nods. “Depends on what the client or customer prefers it to feel like. If they prefer something more intimate, then I call it a date. If they prefer just sex, I call it a session.”

“Shite- I’m probably not supposed to be asking all this, am I?” Niall sighs.

“You’re fine.” Ashton tells him with a laugh. “Honestly, everybody asks questions about what I do, and most of them are very invasive. For one client, that’s basically all I do. He asks about what I do in my other sessions and wanks himself while I tell him. I mean, I’m naked while I do it- and sometimes he has me demonstrate with toys- but still. Obviously I don’t give names or anything, but it’s not unusual for my clients or customers to be interested in my work.”

“So, when he asks, you’re going to tell him about fucking the pathetic, blond amputee?” Niall mutters.

“I’m going to tell him about fucking the hottest new customer I’ve had in over a year.” Ashton hums. “The lad who came to the door in joggers and a t-shirt, and still made my mouth water. That’s not easy to do anymore.”

“You’re flattering me.” Niall scoffs. “Don’t do that. Like you guessed, I prefer when people are frank.”

“Oh, I’m not flattering you.” Ashton snorts. “Haven’t you wondered why I picked you out of that entire bar?”

“I believe you said something to the extent of ‘you look rich enough’.” Niall says flatly. “And apparently it’s easy for people to tell I’m gay.”

“Niall, I said that I thought you could afford me, but that’s not why I picked you.” Ashton says, setting down his beer. “Anyone in that room could have afforded me. You’re the only one I approached, and I did it because you actually managed to catch my eye, unlike anyone else there. And picking out men who enjoy sex with men is a necessary talent in my work. Propositioning the wrong man can be dangerous.”

“You saw the bloke I was with.” Niall points out.

“Yeah, and?” Ashton questions.

“It’s not like I look like him.” Niall mutters.

“That doesn’t mean that you aren’t beautiful.” Ashton says bluntly. “You are, you know.”

“Stop that.” Niall huffs. “You don’t have to do that. Just because you’ve been paid doesn’t mean you have to pretend to be attracted to me.”

“And just because I’ve been paid doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to you.” Ashton counters. “Your friend didn’t catch my eye, Niall. You did. If he’d been the one I was attracted to, I would have gone after him instead, not that it would have worked.”

And, really, that thought shouldn’t make Niall’s stomach turn, but it does.

“You’ve got a pretty face that’s also still masculine at the same time.” Ashton tells him. “And I like your accent. I don’t get many Irishmen. And your eyes are stunning, even from across the room. And you’re almost delicate looking, but there’s nothing about you that’s weak or fragile. I’m attracted to you, Niall, and that’s not a lie or flattery or an act. You paying me has nothing to do with that, and, if circumstances were different, and I didn’t do what I do, I still would have approached you in that bar. I probably wouldn’t have been quite so forward about it, but I still would have tried talking to you.”

“If you didn’t do what you do, I wouldn’t have accepted.” Niall admits.

“Yeah, I’m getting that sense.” Ashton nods. “So I guess I’m actually lucky.”

“You really think you’re so very charming, don’t you?” Niall asks with a roll of his eyes.

“No.” Ashton hums, strolling around the island until he’s standing in front of Niall. “I know I’m so very charming. Just like I know that you’re beautiful. It’s just a fact. I’m charming, you’re beautiful, and the sky is blue.”

“Stop saying that.” Niall breathes out.

“Why?” Ashton asks.

“Because you’re lying.” Niall mutters.

“Am I?” Ashton asks, taking ahold of Niall’s hand and pulling it down between his legs. Niall sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling of Ashton’s cock giving a pulse under his palm. “Still think I’m lying?”

“I- I-” Niall stammers, his mind going blank as Ashton cups his hand over Niall’s, holding it in place gently as he grinds into it. “I think you’ve already admitted to having Viagra on hand.”

“It’s not Viagra.” Ashton snorts, continuing to grind slowly against Niall’s hand while he reaches up and cups Niall’s cheek, leaning in until their lips are only millimeters apart. “It’s you. It’s your spirit. I can’t resist a beautiful bloke with a good bit of fight in him. I think I’m done with the pizza. You?”

“Yeah.” Niall croaks out.

“Are you ready for me to touch you now?” Ashton asks, dropping his hand from Niall’s and skating it up the inside of the blond’s leg. “Are you ready to let me help you forget your life for tonight?”

And, really, that’s what Niall needs more than anything. It’s not about getting off. He has a hand if he wants to get off. It’s about being with someone that he can fall into so deeply that he doesn’t have to think about Louis or Liam or Harry or Eoghan. He doesn’t have to think about anyone or anything, and there won’t be any mess when it’s all over.

He can forget, just for tonight, that his entire world is crumbling.

“Please.” Niall breathes out. And he hasn’t dropped his hand from Ashton’s cock, straining as it is against his jeans, but when Ashton’s fingers grip him through his joggers, it’s a whole new level of sensory overload.

Niall lets out a gasp, his hips jerking forward towards the pressure instinctively, and Ashton asks, “Where and how do you want to do this?”

“Bedroom.” Niall moans, reveling in the slow stroke of Ashton’s fingers. “We should definitely go to the- Shite!”

“What’s wrong?” Ashton asks.

“I don’t have lube or condoms.” Niall groans, pulling his hand away from Ashton’s bulge to grip into his own hair alongside its opposite. “Fuck! I- There’s a market a couple blocks away. I can-”

“Niall, I’ve got a few grand worth of various drugs in my car. Do you really think I don’t bring backup supplies in case of something like this?” Ashton hums, pressing his thumb over Niall’s lips to stop his freak-out.

“How much?” Niall asks, relieved and relishing in the drag of the rough pad of Ashton’s thumb over his lips.

“Let’s call it even for the pizza.” Ashton chuckles. “It’s rare for a customer to feed me unless they’re taking me out in public.”

“Thought you were all about business?” Niall points out.

“If you want me to charge you, I will.” Ashton snorts. “Or you can let me be nice and take your dick out of your pants so I can see what size you need, and I’ll be back in a minute and a half with some complimentary condoms and lube.”

“Is– Is that necessary?” Niall asks.

“Not strictly speaking.” Ashton hums. “I could just bring in a variety and deal with it in your bedroom. But I’d really like to see your dick.”

“Jaysus.” Niall groans. “Yeah- Alright- If you really want to, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit.” Ashton grins, tucking his fingers into the elastic at the top of Niall’s joggers. “Let’s see what I’ve got to work with, shall we?”

“Christ- Can- Can you not put it like that?” Niall asks, hissing when Ashton pulls down the material enough for Niall’s cock to spring out.

He gets a hand on it immediately, giving it a slow pump that has Niall whimpering and biting at his lip when Ashton asks, “How should I put it then?”

“I- I-” Niall stammers, his mind going blanker with each stroke of Ashton’s hand.

“How about I put it-” Ashton whispers, leaning in so his lips graze over the shell of Niall’s ear. “In my mouth?”

“Jaysus, Mary and Joseph-” Niall grunts. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Nope.” Ashton hums, dropping to his knees. “I’m trying to blow you. You good with that?”

“How- Ah- God- Fuck! How am I- supposed to- say no to that?” Niall groans, his whole body shivering and jerking and twitching every time Ashton gives another pull.

“You’re not, unless you don’t want it.” Ashton snorts.

“Shit-” Niall moans. “I do. I really do. I just-”

“What?” Ashton asks teasingly, slowing his pace and driving Niall even further down the path of insanity.

“Conan.” Niall chokes out. “Feels- weird- if the dog is here. Don’t- Don’t think I can go through with a blowie if his eyes are on us.”

“Forgot about him.” Ashton hums, looking back over his shoulder at the lab sitting in the corner of the kitchen on his doggy bed. Not that it stops his hand from making Niall lose his fucking mind. “I guess I can wait until we get to the bedroom, if it’s making you feel weird.”

“It’s not making you feel weird?” Niall asks incredulously, finally thinking to grab ahold of Ashton’s wrist and stop the motions to get his head a bit clearer.

“Eh.” Ashton says with a shrug. “I’ve dealt with weirder. Comes with the job.”

“Well, I’ve not dealt with weirder when it comes to this, and I’d really like to be able to keep saying that I haven’t.” Niall tells him. “Having my dog watch me get head is a line I’m not willing to cross.”

“It’s your money.” Ashton chuckles, relinquishing his grip on Niall’s dick. “I have to admit, though, I’m very excited to see how you react to everything else when you’re so responsive with just my dry hand.”

“I told you that it’s been a while!” Niall hisses, his blush flaring up brightly.

“Just wait for me, yeah?” Ashton hums, leaning forward and pressing a smacking kiss to the head of Niall’s dick that really shouldn’t make Niall’s mind go as static as it does. He tucks Niall back into his joggers, stands up and says, “Be back in just a minute.”

He walks out after that, the only sounds being the click of his heeled boots on the floor and Niall’s heavy breathing.

“Fuck.” Niall whispers once the door closes. “What the fuck am I doing?”

It’s not the first time he's asked himself that question today. It’s been happening pretty much every five minutes for the last six hours, actually. Ever since he got off the phone with Ashton from setting up a meeting time. And Ashton has been here for half an hour, clogging up Niall’s pores with blessed distraction, but now his mind isn’t so foggy, and he has to ask himself again.

But, for the first time today, he has an answer. He’s pushing everything else down. He’s taking his attraction to Harry and his grief over losing Liam and Louis and shoving them into a little box to be hidden in some dark corner of his heart. It’s too much. It’s too much to deal with on top of everything else in Niall’s life, so he’s just not going to. Not tonight. 

He deserves one night where he doesn’t have to feel pain and fear and despair curl around him like ropes, tying him back and down until he feels like he’s going to be crushed by the pressure.

He deserves time to sort everything out instead of having it all thrown at him at once.

So he makes a decision. He leads Conan to the sitting room again and locks the door behind him after promising that he won’t be in there all night. Niall’s not a monster. He’s not just going to put Conan away for the night so he can get off. Conan’s toys are all in the room, and he can open and close the door to the garden if he needs to go out. Niall has walked him and fed him and played with him until Ashton showed up, and he’ll be back to check on him occasionally.

But, right now, he needs to think about himself. And maybe that’s selfish, maybe it’s just confirmation that he really isn’t a very good person, but he doesn’t have it in him to care. And, most telling of all, he doesn’t even wish he could care.

“You alright?” Ashton asks when he finds Niall standing in front of the door, eyes closed in a vain attempt to block out Conan’s whining.

“I’m fine.” Niall answers. “Can you just– Can you touch me again please?”

“Of course.” Ashton nods, slinging a bag over his shoulder and walking over to Niall. “How do you want me to touch you?”

“I don’t fucking care.” Niall breathes out. “Kiss me, blow me, fuck me- doesn’t matter. I just need you to touch me. Please.”

“I can do that.” Ashton hums, cupping his hand around the side of Niall’s neck and rubbing his thumb along his jawline. 

His lips are still soft, but there’s an insistence to the kiss this time that isn’t soft at all. And Niall doesn’t know if Ashton popped a breath-strip or what, but he tastes like mint instead of pizza, and it’s a welcome surprise. And- Fuck- Niall doesn’t ever remember being kissed like this. Not by anyone. And Niall’s not been with a lot of guys, but he’s not a virgin either.

Maybe it’s just because it’s been so, so long since that night with Eoghan before they were captured, but he doesn’t remember this kind of electricity humming through his veins. He doesn’t remember feeling the rest of the world slip away, but maybe that’s because it’s what he needs right now. Maybe it has less to do with Ashton, and more to do with Niall.

That said, Ashton is a fantastic snog one way or the other. His tongue might actually be magic.

His hand that isn’t cupping Niall’s jaw makes its way down the blond’s torso, settling on his hip. His thumb sneaks under the hem of Niall’s shirt, follows the line of his hip, and makes Niall shudder.

“It is amazing how sensitive you are.” Ashton mumbles against Niall’s lips. “What’s say we get you into bed so I can test it out?”

“Yes, please, god.” Niall whimpers. Under most circumstances, he’d be embarrassed by the desperation in his voice, but- well- He’s already a one-legged nutcase paying for a night with an escort. He didn’t have much chance at retaining anything resembling dignity to begin with.

“Just ‘Ashton’ is fine.” Ashton hums. “Ash, if you prefer.”

Fuck- He has Harry’s sense of humor, and it makes Niall snort out a very unattractive laugh.

“Shut up.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “Bedroom is at the top of the stairs. It’s the one with the tennis-ball hanging from the door. You go up first. I have to take the stairs carefully.”

“I could carry you.” Ashton offers with an eyebrow waggle. “We could keep kissing, and, as a bonus, I’d get to have my hands all over your ass.”

“It would take more drugs than you have to get me to agree to being carried.” Niall snorts.

“Fair enough.” Ashton chuckles. “Feel free to stare at my ass on the walk up. I’ve been told lots of nice things about it.”

“I’m sure.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “You probably get compliments on everything.”

“Yup.” Ashton says, popping the ‘p’ sound at the end. 

He presses in again, licking into Niall’s mouth with that obscenely talented tongue before he’s heading up the stairs, hips moving in exaggerated swings that Niall can’t help but watch. His arse may not be as - prominent - as Harry’s, but it is oddly hypnotic, and Niall finds himself following without any comeback forthcoming.

It’s only once they get into his room that it really begins to dawn on him what’s about to happen.

“Oh fuck.” Niall breathes out.

“What?” Ashton asks, dropping down on the edge of the bed and peering at Niall from under his fringe as he strips his jacket off.

“I- People are generally like - naked - for this.” Niall sighs.

“That’s pretty consistent in my experience, yeah.” Ashton says with a nod.

“Nobody has seen me naked since-” Niall mumbles, waving at his leg. “Not even my doctors. I’m always covered up as much as I can be.”

“I told you, Niall-” Ashton says gently. “You’re not my first amputee. Do you want to just start with taking off your shirt, and build up to it?”

“No. The shirt stays on.” Niall says firmly. “That’s a non-starter.”

“That’s kind of the opposite of what I was expecting.” Ashton admits. “I was already running through the things we could still do if you insisted on keeping the trousers on.”

“I’m used to the looks that I get for the leg.” Niall mutters. He takes a deep breath and hooks his fingers into his joggers, pushing them down to the floor before he can change his mind. They pool at his feet, and he leans back against the dresser, carefully removing them from his foot and then from Bobby. “I don’t like them, but I’m used to them. My back is another story.”

“That-” Ashton drawls out, looking at Niall’s legs. “Is a very nice piece of tech.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Niall asks incredulously.

“I also didn’t figure you for a briefs man.” Ashton says with a shrug. “I would have put money on boxers.”

“Ashton-” Niall starts.

“Niall-” Ashton counters, cutting him off. “I don’t know what you want me to say. It doesn’t change anything to me. I’m not going to run out of the house screaming. It’s a leg. A good bit of one, anyways. It’s not that big of a deal to me. Maybe it is for you, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help make you more comfortable with all of this, but you have to tell me what it is you need from me.”

“I- I don’t know.” Niall admits after a moment. “I just- It feels like a big deal.”

“Then it is.” Ashton nods. “To you, and I respect that. If you need some time, you can take that. If you want to call the whole thing off, you can do that too. You won’t get your money back, but it’s up to you how things proceed, Niall. All of this is up to you. Do you want to talk?”

“The last thing I want right now is to talk.” Niall mutters.

“Then what’s the first thing you want?” Ashton asks.

“To cum so hard I can forget who I am for a while.” Niall answers.

“That- I can do.” Ashton smirks.

 

“That’s it. There you go.” Ashton murmurs, whispers the words into Niall’s mouth.

“Fucking hell.” Niall breathes out. “That- That is more than I remember.”

“Your body remembers how this goes.” Ashton assures him, gripping tight onto Niall’s hips when he gives them a roll. “Just give it a minute to remember. Don’t rush. We’ve got a while yet.”

“Might be a bit rough.” Niall mumbles, curling his fingers through the hair at the back of Ashton’s neck. “Never tried to do this with only half a leg. Not sure what kind of leverage I can get.”

“I can help make up the difference.” Ashton tells him.

“You’re big.” Niall groans, giving another roll of his hips. “Never really cared about that, but- I see why people want it now. Feels good. I like being this full.”

“Just make sure you don’t hurt yourself trying to do too much, too fast.” Ashton tells him.

“You prepped me for like- Half an hour.” Niall groans. “I can take it. Just fuck me already.”

“Ask nicely.” Ashton hums, reaching down between Niall’s cheeks and giving a slow circle with his finger against where Niall is stretched around his cock.

“Will you-” Niall gasps out. “Oh god! Fuck me? Please? Now?”

“Yeah, babe, I’ll fuck you now.” Ashton whispers hotly in his ear. “How do you want it?”

“Hard.” Niall breathes out. 

“Hands on my shoulders.” Ashton instructs.

Niall wastes no time following the order, bracing his palms against Ashton’s shoulders in an instant and letting Ashton move him around by the hips until he has the blond where he wants him. The slow way he pulls out makes Niall’s chest go tight, makes him feel like the whole world is shifting underneath him, but Ashton’s grip is tight enough to keep him steady.

Until Ashton thrusts up, that is.

The force of Ashton fucking right into Niall’s prostate knocks the air from his lungs and makes his eyes roll back in his head. He drops forward, manages to catch himself on his elbows to the side of Ashton’s chest.

“Too hard?” Ashton asks.

“No.” Niall grunts out, pushing himself back up and locking his elbows. “That’s perfect. You are- Remarkably accurate.”

“Have a pretty good idea what I’m doing.” Ashton smirks, pulling out and snapping his hips back up.

Niall is prepared for it this time, and the next and the next and the next until it becomes a pounding symphony of skin slapping against skin over moans and grunts and whimpers. And Ashton- Ashton is bloody perfect, knows exactly how to fuck up into Niall without needing to be told what the blond wants. Not that Niall would even know where to begin instructing him after all this time.

Yeah, his body remembers what to do, just like Ashton said it would, but he’s so overwhelmed that his thoughts are only coming in fragments at this point. Little bits of sensations sent from the frazzled nerves spread throughout his body. 

He can’t think, so he works on instinct, taking his left hand and planting it behind himself, between Ashton’s legs. Without having the lower part of his left leg, he can’t give himself the leverage he needs to actively participate in the previous position. His arms are strong though. It provides enough support for him to lean back and start lifting his own hips, driving them back down to meet Ashton’s thrusts.

And he’s never done this before, never had sex with someone that he didn’t know at all, let alone an escort, but he likes it. He likes the roughness of two bodies coming together in a simple search for release. He likes the dirty feeling, the deviance of it. He likes that he wants Ashton to feel as good as he does, but that he doesn’t actually care. He likes that he’s in control, for once, because the only thing that matters is what he wants.

It’s just a plaster on a broken arm, a temporary fix for his problems, but- God, does it feel good.

The hand he doesn’t have braced on the mattress comes up to wrap around his cock, giving rough, sloppy tugs in time with the blistering pace that Ashton is pumping into him. And it’s going to hurt later, going to leave his arse scarlet and sensitive and sore, but he doesn’t care. It’s what he wants.

If he cared about anything right now, it might embarrass him how little time he lasts once he gets his hand on himself, but he can’t and it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter that Ashton has already gotten him off twice with his fingers and mouth on the journey to get Niall prepped, and yet he still cums only a few minutes after things have started. He’s too caught up in the waves of pleasure that course though him, spasming with the flow of it while his body goes taut to give a shit about dignity.

Ashton is panting heavily when Niall focuses again, his whole body gone lax and his expression blissed out. He’s got streaks of Niall’s cum painted over his chest, so the blond pulls off and falls to the side instead of forward.

“Fuck, has it really been two years?” Ashton asks, blinking lazily over at Niall. “Because that was- Wow.”

“That your professional opinion?” Niall snorts.

“Smartass.” Ashton scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“You’re the one that’s all business.” Niall says with a shrug, scooting up the bed and laying his head on a pillow before he reaches over and grabs a box of tissues off of the nightstand. “Sorry about the mess though.”

“Risk of the job.” Ashton hums, taking a few tissues and starting to wipe his torso. “Besides, jizz is actually the greatest moisturizer in the world. Does wonders for the skin. A bukkake session is basically like doing a chemical peel, without all the redness and pain.”

“Oh my god.” Niall says through a barked out laugh.

“These are valuable industry secrets.” Ashton says with a grin. “Really, I should be charging you for this kind of insider knowledge.”

“I’ll stick to lotion, thanks.” Niall chuckles. “It just seems like it would be a bit difficult to fit a bukkake session into my schedule. Plus, I’m not sure I want to meet the kind of guy who would hire an amputee just so that they can cum on their face.”

“Fair point.” Ashton nods, taking another tissue and wrapping it around the condom after he removes it, tossing the whole wad of them in the bin when Niall points before he sits back up against the headboard. “There are some sick bastards out there. Another risk of the job.”

“Well, the biggest risk of my job is spilling coffee on a celebrity, so I’ll just stick to what I do.” Niall hums.

“What do you do?” Ashton asks.

“I’m an assistant at a recording studio, but I’m also an in-studio guitarist and training to be a producer.” Niall explains, looking up at the ceiling.

“You any good?” Ashton asks.

“Not as good as I was at my old job, but I’m not half bad.” Niall admits.

“What was your old job?” Ashton questions.

“I raised money for my father’s charity.” Niall says quietly. “My official title was CFRO - chief fund-raising officer - but I was more of a CDO - a chief development officer. My da thought that sounded too fancy for his charity though.”

“Holy shit.” Ashton breathes out. “You’re a bit young for any position like that, aren’t you?”

“I’m good at math and getting people to give money to charity.” Niall snorts. “Like- Really good at those two things. And I was raised in the charity, because my da was the founder and CEO, so nepotism might have played a part, but I earned the job.”

“No, of course you did. I- I didn’t mean to offend you.” Ashton mumbles.

“You didn’t.” Niall tells him, looking over to meet his eyes so that he knows it’s true. “You think you’re the only person to ever ask how I managed to get a job like that so young? I was twenty one when I effectively became the second in command of a worldwide charity. I’ve been asked that hundreds of times. It takes more than that to offend me. Talk shite about my leg, and we’ll have a problem, but pretty much everything outside of that is fine.”

“Why would I talk shit about it?” Ashton scoffs. “Didn’t keep you down any. Like I said-”

“‘Wow.’” Niall finishes for him with a snort. “Kind of hard to believe that when I’m paying you.”

“Niall, if I say the sex was good, it was good.” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “If it isn’t, I find another way to put it. I don’t insult my customers, but I also don’t lie to them. Don’t dismiss my autonomy just because you’re paying me.”

“You did find another way to put it.” Niall points out. “‘Wow’ could be taken any number of ways.”

“The sex was good, Niall.” Ashton says firmly, placing his hand on Niall’s arm. “Quick, but damn good.”

“Sorry about that.” Niall mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat up with a furious blush.

“Don’t be.” Ashton hums. “It was pretty intense. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” Niall admits with a nod.

“I did too.” Ashton tells him. “So what is there to be sorry about?”

“Just- I don’t know.” Niall sighs.

“You don’t know because there’s no actual reason to feel bad.” Ashton says softly. “You do that a lot, don’t you? Take on guilt?”

“I fired my therapist today, and I’m not looking for a new one.” Niall mutters, swinging his leg over the side of the bed and sitting so that his back is turned to Ashton.

The bed dips behind him, and then Ashton is pressed against him, front to back through his shirt, his arms loosely winding around Niall’s waist as he murmurs, “That’s good. I’m good at sex, I can play a few instruments, and I make some damn good smoothies, but I’m not a therapist. Besides, your therapist couldn’t do this-”

His mouth attaches itself to the junction between Niall’s neck and shoulder, a fantastic mix between tongue and teeth and lips lulling Niall back to a sense of calm. His legs spread open, and he pulls Niall’s apart between them to match.

“You ready for round two?” Ashton asks, his voice gone rough and gravelly in a way that shoots straight down Niall’s spine to his cock.

“Fuck yes.” Niall gasps out, turning his face to meet Ashton’s lips just as the other man’s finger slips into him. Anything to stop having to think about his life.


	17. Chapter 17

“Fuck!” Niall whimpers. “Ash- I- I’m-”

“Not yet.” Ashton murmurs in his ear, pumping into Niall in slow, measured thrusts that are driving him wild. Niall’s arms quake, threaten to give out under him, but Ashton just pulls him back tighter against his chest. And he’s pressed tight against Niall’s back, fucking into him from behind, but it doesn’t feel restricting. He’s not a weight on top of Niall. He’s supporting the both of them with one arm pressed into the mattress, his muscles bulging obscenely. “Just a little longer, babe.”

God- Niall doesn’t know how much longer he can last. A quick glance at the clock tells him they’ve been at this for literally an hour straight, but it feels like it’s been days. It feels like Niall’s been hovering on the edge of orgasm for ages, like he could burst apart at the seams at any moment. His muscles are aching in the most delicious way, and the sweat that’s coating his body has made every bit of his skin go oversensitive, and his hole feels raw and abused, and his cock is leaking so much that it feels like it’s crying, but he loves it. He loves it all.

So he can wait for a little while longer, at least, because Ashton clearly knows what he’s doing, and that’s worth waiting for.

“Doing so good for me, babe.” Ashton murmurs, kissing over the back of Niall’s neck. “Just a few more minutes.”

“There- There a reason?” Niall asks with a groan when Ashton’s thumbnail scrapes over his nipple.

“You were embarrassed about how short last time was.” Ashton says slowly. “An hour and two minutes is my personal record for one continuous go without anyone cumming, so I thought you’d like to help me break that?”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.” Niall moans, fingers curling into the sheets when Ashton fucks into him again just right. He knows what he’s doing, where to aim, but he’s only been giving that to Niall every once in a while, which he now realizes is deliberate.

“Just three more minutes, and then you can cum.” Ashton slurs out. “Promise I’ll make it good.”

“Hope so.” Niall snorts. “Because my arse is going to be sore for a week after this.”

“You’re a trooper.” Ashton hums. “You can handle it. Besides, I have a feeling that you’ll like that, won’t you, babe?”

“Yes.” Niall admits breathlessly, his body going tight.

“God!” Ashton gasps out. “Don’t clench like that, or we’ll fall short.”

“Sorry.” Niall pants out, forcing his body to relax.

Ashton slows his pace even further, and Niall has to bite his bottom lip to stifle a sob. He’s torn between never wanting it to end, and just wanting to cum. His whole body is thrumming with the need for release, like the pressure is building up to the point where he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get some relief soon. Like the pleasure has to reach a crest or he’s going to be consumed by it.

He watches the time tick by on the clock, slow and torturous, but he could keep time by Ashton’s thrusts. Every five seconds, in, every five seconds, out, over and over until Niall’s turning to meet Ashton’s lips in a desperate kiss because time is approaching and they can finally, finally go at it for results now.

Niall’s fingers tangle in Ashton’s hair, hold his face close because, once the other man starts fucking into Niall with purpose, he’s gasping and moaning too much to do anything more than breathe the sounds into Ashton’s mouth, and swallow the ones he’s getting in return. His hips are sharp and bruising against Niall’s ass, abusing the skin there in the best of ways as he thrusts into Niall just right over and over and over again.

Ashton’s fingers barely manage to circle around Niall’s cock and give it a tug before he cums, shooting so hard that he screams.

“Oh god! Harry! Fuck!” Niall sobs, his whole body trembling with the force of it. It’s like he’s being pulled inside out. It’s like his whole body is being torn apart and put back together at the same time. His vision goes white and his ears ring with the sounds of their moans mixing together.

Ashton’s final thrust knocks them both forward, and they lay there panting, a pile of sweaty flesh on sheets soaked through with sweat and cum and precum. It’s filthy and wet and sticky, but Niall doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying to bring his heartrate down and makes his lungs work properly to give a fuck.

“So-” Ashton pants out after a few minutes, once he’s pulled out and thrown the condom in the bin, turning on his side to look at Niall. “Who’s Harry?”

“Who’s who now?” Niall asks, freezing on the spot at the mention of the name.

“When you came, you screamed the name ‘Harry’.” Ashton explains.

“I did not.” Niall breathes out, peeling himself off the sheet. “You’re fucking lying.”

“Niall, why the fuck would I lie about that?” Ashton asks. “I’m not judging you or anything. If you want to call me by a different name or something-”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Niall mutters, cutting him off. “I don’t. Fuck. Just- Just shut up for a minute.”

He scoots himself to the edge of the bed, pulling on his sock before he slips his stump into Bobby. He needs to get up, needs to move, because he can’t sit still or the heaviness will break his back with the way it’s weighing on his shoulders.

He said Harry’s name.

Fuck.

“Do you-” Niall starts, clamping his mouth shut because he can’t believe he’s even considering asking this. “Are those party favors still on the table?”

 

“Jesus!” Niall says through a fit of coughs. His throat feels like it’s been coated in soot and his lungs feel like they’re on fire. “Why does - anyone - like that?”

“Give it a minute.” Ashton chuckles, rubbing Niall’s back as he takes the joint out from between Niall’s fingers. “You really haven’t ever done this before, have you?”

“No!” Niall wheezes out. Conan nudges at Niall’s hand, and the blond throws his ball again, watching him bound off across the garden to try to find his toy by moonlight. And he doesn’t know why, because he’s seen Conan do this hundreds of times, but watching the lab pounce on top of the ball like a cat sends him into a fit of giggles. Conan returns, putting his head in Niall’s lap, and Niall laughs out, “Dork.”

“Wow, you’ve got a really nice smile.” Ashton says quietly.

“Clearly you’re stoned.” Niall scoffs.

“I haven’t even taken a hit yet.” Ashton says with a roll of his eyes.

“Must be something you took before then.” Niall says with a shrug.

“Why do you do that?” Ashton asks, taking a drag off of the joint. He holds it for a minute and then breathes it out towards the sky, and he looks really fucking pretty like this. He’s stretched out on the lounger next to Niall, wearing nothing but his jeans and leather jacket. He looks so long and lean and lithe, stretching to infinity with his arms back behind his head and his legs straight in front of him. “Niall?”

“Sorry, what?” Niall asks, blinking at him because he’s forgotten the question.

“Jesus, you’ve got no tolerance at all.” Ashton chuckles. “Why do you refuse to take compliments?”

“I don’t know.” Niall admits, turning his attention back to Conan.

“Modesty is a good quality, but self-deprecation isn’t.” Ashton tells him.

“Thought I told you I wasn’t looking for a therapist.” Niall mutters.

“I’m not trying to be one.” Ashton sighs. “And if you just want me to shut up, you can tell me to. I will. It just feels like you need to talk, but you’re fighting it because you don’t want to be vulnerable.”

“You’re a stranger, Ashton.” Niall says, looking over at him. “I barely talk to the people who are a part of my life.”

“Exactly.” Ashton nods. “It’s harder to talk to them because that’ll affect your relationships with them. They’re a part of your life, and they can’t un-know what you tell them. They can’t un-see that vulnerability. But, with me, when I leave in eight and a half hours, you’ll never see me again unless you want to. You can get whatever is eating you inside, out, and it won’t change anything in the rest of your life.”

“The whole point of having you here was to forget about the shit going on in my life for just a night.” Niall says quietly, laying back against the lounger.

“And how’s that working for you?” Ashton asks.

“For shite, obviously.” Niall mumbles. Given what happened a few minutes ago, that’s pretty clear.

“Why did you call me, Niall?” Ashton asks. “What was the catalyst that made you decide to pick up your mobile and hire me for the night?”

“I promised someone that I wouldn’t be alone tonight.” Niall admits. “He wasn’t going to leave unless I did, because he was worried about me, but I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

“Nobody?” Ashton asks. “Not a single friend?”

“My best friend, who was my therapist, because I’m that pathetic, has been dating my other best friend for about three months and keeping it a secret from me.” Niall mutters. “My boss is sick, and the only other person in my life is- is-”

“Harry?” Ashton guesses.

“Yeah.” Niall says through a gulp.

“Is that the guy you were with at the club?” Ashton asks. “The leggy brunet?”

“That’s him.” Niall nods, grabbing the joint from between Ashton’s fingers and taking a drag. It sticks to his throat the same as before, makes his lungs feel like they’re burning again, but he manages to just cough a few times when he lets it out. Progress.

“Is he the one who wouldn’t leave until you promised not to be alone?” Ashton questions.

“Yes.” Niall sighs, closing his eyes until his mind chooses to assault him with images from earlier. Harry’s unwavering gaze when he leaned in burns itself into the back of Niall’s eyelids, and he can’t stay in it for too long before it starts to chisel away at him.

“You have feelings for him?” Ashton asks.

“No.” Niall says immediately. “He- He’s just a friend. I don’t do relationships.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted a relationship with him.” Ashton says, teasing his fingers down Niall’s arm until he steals back the joint. He takes a quick drag and says, “I asked if you have feelings for him.”

“Why do you do what you do?” Niall asks, hoping the abrupt change to an uncomfortable topic will make Ashton back off before Niall’s mind can start wondering about the difference between those two things.

“I came to London to be a musician.” Ashton says quietly. “I was in an alt-rock band with my boyfriend and another friend. Things didn’t work out on either front. I didn’t want to go back home a failure, so I just stayed here. Worked as a dancer in some clubs, and then kind of just found my way into this from there. Now I’ve made half a million pounds in the last three years and been all over the world with the rich and powerful men of London.”

“Do you like it?” Niall asks.

“I do most of the time.” Ashton says with a shrug. “I had a rough start, had some not so good customers, but I chose my own path, and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Must be nice.” Niall mutters.

“Being an escort?” Ashton questions.

“Not being ashamed of yourself.” Niall corrects, taking the joint back and taking a long drag, hoping the fuzziness in his head will block out everything else when he sits forward and throws Conan’s ball for him again.

Ashton doesn’t ask any more questions, and neither does Niall.

 

_Niall’s phone rings, startling him out of the daze he’s in. He tears his eyes away from the mirror, unable to face it with the way his stomach drops. He’s been waiting on this call for hours, dreading it, and he knows that he can’t avoid it now. He picks up the receiver, taking a deep breath before he actually hold it up._

_He doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before Bobby’s voice filters through and asks, “You’re staying?”_

_“Just- Just for a few extra days.” Niall mumbles, fiddling with the hem of his shirt because he can’t help but fidget when his father gets that stern tone in his voice._

_“Why?” Bobby asks._

_“There’s only one senior member on this trip.” Niall tells him. “She has thirty-five volunteers to oversee, and the liaisons from the Syrian government are people we’ve never worked with, and-”_

_“And you met a bloke.” Bobby cuts him off._

_“What?” Niall squeaks. “No- I- You-”_

_“Niall-” Bobby sighs. “I already know all about it. Mary mentioned it in an email.”_

_“I really like him, da.” Niall says quietly, knowing that there’s no point in denying it now._

_“Then why didn’t you just say that instead of trying to make your extension about business?” Bobby questions._

_“It’s about business too.” Niall huffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m not just making up reasons to stay. You need to get another senior member out here ASAP. Mary is good, but you know how things go around this part of the world. Things can change in an instant, and it would be good to have another person. Preferably a bloke.”_

_“I’ve got Mark and Paul both flying out there in three days.” Bobby tells him. “Think that’ll be enough time for you?”_

_“It’ll have to be.” Niall mumbles. “We’ve got that gala in Los Angeles in five days. But, I was thinking, when I get back, maybe I can stay in London for a while. I’ve got some ideas for expanding our social media presence, and-”_

_“No shop talk.” Bobby cuts him off. “All we ever talk about is work. It’s time for you to tell me all about your boy. How’s the sex?”_

_“First of all, he’s ten years older than me, so he’s not a boy.” Niall scoffs. “And, second, what do you take me for? I’ve only known him for a few days.”_

_“If television has taught me anything, it’s that sex is like a handshake between gay blokes.” Bobby chuckles. “C’mon, son. I haven’t had anything but my own hand since you were in nappies. I need to live vicariously through you.”_

_“What you need is to find a woman.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Maura has dated. You should too.”_

_“The only relationships I have room for in my life are you and LiveWell.” Bobby says with a laugh._

_“Well then you should open up that disgusting folder on your laptop that you think I don’t know about, and break out the lotion, because you’re not going to be living vicariously through my sex-life.” Niall says flatly. “Besides, Eoghan isn’t your type. A bit too much facial hair and penis for you.”_

_“Fair.” Bobby snorts. “We’ll talk about London when I see you in LA. Be safe until then, alright?”_

_“This isn’t anything I haven’t been doing since I was ten.” Niall reminds him. “I know how to take care of myself in a place like this.”_

_“I meant use condoms.” Bobby giggles._

_“Shut the fuck up, old man.” Niall groans. “Go get to your porn and microwave meal for one, and let me get to my date.”_

_“Love you, son.” Bobby hums._

_“Love you too, da.” Niall tells him, ringing off just as there’s a knock at his hotel room door. His heartbeat stutters and his palms begin to sweat and a glimpse of himself in the mirror tells him that he’s nowhere near ready. He hasn’t even styled his hair yet. It’s just a flat, brown mess on his head. “Oh god. Oh god! Fuck!”_

_“You know I can hear you through the door, right?” Eoghan chuckles._

_“Shut up!” Niall hisses. “No you can’t! Fuck- Just give me a minute! I need to get ready.”_

_“How can you say that I can’t hear you, and then tell me you need more time?” Eoghan asks._

_“Oh my god!” Niall groans, opening up the door. “Why are you so difficult?”_

_“Why are you acting like you need to get ready when you already are?” Eoghan counters, raking his eyes down Niall’s body._

_“My hair.” Niall sighs._

_“Looks good like this.” Eoghan hums, sweeping Niall’s fringe to the side. “You’re a bit uptight, you know that?”_

_“I’ve been told.” Niall mumbles, blushing brightly._

_“It’s cute.” Eoghan says, tilting Niall’s chin up with two fingers. “Makes me want to help you unwind.”_

_“It’s probably going to take more than three days to help me stop being so uptight.” Niall scoffs._

_“Did your father shoot down the London plan then?” Eoghan asks, walking into the room._

_“Not yet.” Niall tells him, closing the door. “But he figured out that I wanted to extend my stay here because of you, so I’m sure he’ll wonder if that’s why I want to stop being so mobile all the time.”_

_“Isn’t it?” Eoghan asks, perching on the end of Niall’s bed with a smirk._

_“Shut up.” Niall huffs. “It’s not because of you. I’m just- I’m burning out. The last two years have been a lot, and I’m glad for the things I’ve gotten to do, but I’d like to remember how it feels to stay in the same place for longer than a week. I’d like to not live out of one of the five different bags I have in my room for the different parts of the world I visit. I’d like to get my own flat and stop living with my da. I’d like to be able to actually go on a date with the same guy more than once, and not have to keep them in my hotel room because it might be dangerous outside it.”_

_“So you do want to date me.” Eoghan hums, his smirk growing even cockier, though Niall would have doubted that was even possible before._

_“Not at this moment.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes._

_“I could blow you again.” Eoghan offers with a lecherous eyebrow waggle. “Remind you why you wanted to give it a try in the first place.”_

_“That’s not why I wanted to give it a try.” Niall says flatly._

_“It’s not?” Eoghan asks, tilting his head to the side curiously._

_“No.” Niall mumbles, staring down at where he’s picking at a loose thread in his jeans. “I wanted to give it a try because you make me laugh. My life is very serious, and, as you pointed out, I’m a bit uptight. You can make me laugh though. Like- Really laugh.”_

_“Come here.” Eoghan murmurs._

_He reaches out and takes Niall’s hand, drawing him towards the bed. And Eoghan is big- He’s tall and he’s got long limbs and his hands engulf most of Niall’s head when he pulls him into a bruising snog- But Niall doesn’t feel small, even when he straddles over Eoghan’s lap to chase the kiss._

_Eoghan breaks the kiss, panting into Niall’s mouth when he says, “You’re incredible.”_

_“Stop.” Niall whines, his cheeks heating up under Eoghan’s palms._

_“Hey-” Eoghan says softly, bumping their noses together. “I mean it. What you do- It’s amazing. And you’re young, but you aren’t immature. You’re smart, but you aren’t a wanker about it. And your arse- Jaysus, it does not quit.”_

_“Oh my god!” Niall cackles, batting at Eoghan’s chest as his laugh overtakes him and he throws his head back. “You’re such a knob!”_

_“Whatever.” Eoghan snorts. “Anyways- About your arse-”_

_“Shut up.” Niall hums, leaning back in to catch Eoghan’s lips in a kiss that’s slower and softer than the last one._

_“I think I like you.” Eoghan mumbles against his lips._

_“I think I like you too.” Niall breathes out. “A lot more than I should, considering you’re the kind of wanker that would get off a plane in Damascus wearing a leather jacket and skinny jeans. We haven’t got much time before I’m off to Los Angeles though, so how about we cut the talk for now, and I show you what my arse can do? Because you’re right. It does not quit.”_

Niall wakes up to a soft voice saying his name, a finger tracing its way down his arm, and he blinks awake. The back of his mind registers that the warm body next to him isn’t the one that he’s used to, that it’s not furry with a cold nose and laying half on top of him. He freezes for a second, but then he recognizes the voice and relaxes.

“It’s almost seven.” Ashton says quietly when Niall blinks his eyes open.

“How long?” Niall asks.

“Fifteen minutes.” Ashton tells him. “I could blow you if you want. Don’t think we have time left for another shag.”

“Will you fuck me again if I pay for another hour?” Niall asks quietly.

“If that’s what you want to do.” Ashton nods.

“Please.” Niall breathes out.

And it’s not that he needs another orgasm. His body is fully sated after all the events of last night- After they finished the joint and Ashton took Conan inside and then fucked Niall slowly on the lounger, right out in the open night air for anyone to see. After Ashton sucked him off on his kitchen counter when they went back for more fuel. After Ashton fingered him and wanked him off on the couch with Jailhouse Rock playing in the background. After he took Niall back to the bed and massaged his body to rid him of the soreness in his muscles before he fucked him again and they fell asleep on the bare mattress because Niall was too worn out to change the filthy sheets.

But there’s a phantom touch holding him, a ghost leaving fingerprints under his skin, and he doesn’t want to feel that anymore.

“You sure you can handle it?” Ashton asks, easing his hand between Niall’s thighs and running it up until his finger runs a circle around Niall’s hole. Niall’s breath catches in his throat and he hisses at the contact, his body feeling sore and sensitive to an extreme. “I didn’t exactly go easy on you last night.”

“I can handle it.” Niall says, closing his eyes.

“Niall-” Ashton sighs.

“I can handle it!” Niall snaps, his voice breaking at the end. “Please- I- I need this, Ashton. I can handle any pain.”

“Alright.” Ashton says gently. “How do you want it?”

“You on top of me.” Niall answers, reaching down and pulling on the hem of his shirt until he gets it off over his head.

“You’re going against what you told me last night.” Ashton points out.

“I changed my mind, okay?” Niall sighs. “I need to feel this. I need it to be the only thing I can feel.”

“I just want you to be sure.” Ashton says, placing his hand on the other side of Niall’s torso and rolling until he’s hovering over him.

“I’m sure.” Niall says firmly. “So can you please fuck me before we go through the entire extra hour that I’m paying for?”

“Gotta get you prepped first, babe.” Ashton hums, nudging Niall’s legs apart and grabbing the lube off of the nightstand.

“You fucked me four separate times last night.” Niall huffs. “I’m plenty prepped.”

“If you’re paying for the extra hour, you might as well get the most out of it, Niall.” Ashton says, nipping at Niall’s collarbone. “There’s no need to rush and end up hurting yourself.”

“I want it to hurt.” Niall breathes out, pulling Ashton back up by the hair. He reaches down between them, grasping at Ashton’s half-hard dick and giving it slow tugs to get him up to speed. “I want it hard and I want it rough and I want it to hurt.”

“Let me know if it’s too much, alright?” Ashton requests.

“It takes more than you have in you to be too much for me.” Niall whispers, letting go of Ashton’s cock once he’s ready. “Just fuck me.”

“Just give me a second, then.” Ashton grunts, reaching for the box of condoms on the nightstand. Niall has to bite down on his lip just to keep from whining impatiently while Ashton puts it on.

He knows he’s not being fair. He’s not treating Ashton right, even though the Aussie lad has been nothing but good to him. And if he felt like he could control himself, he’d stop this now, because Ashton is clearly worried and trying to be careful. He needs this, though. He needs a way to wash Eoghan’s touch away after that memory - dream - whatever - because it’s too much on top of everything else going on right now.

“Hey-” Ashton murmurs, pressing their foreheads together as he winds Niall’s leg behind his back. “You still with me?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “Yeah, I’m with you.”

Ashton slides his hand down between Niall’s cheeks, rubs the excess lube from his cock on Niall’s hole, and then lines himself up before asking, “You’re sure about this?”

“Positive.” Niall answers.

From the first press of Ashton’s head into him, Niall can tell this is going to be a rough one. He’s not quite as loose as he thought he would be, but that’s okay. It burns, and that pulls focus from what he’s feeling everywhere else. Ashton sinks in slowly, carefully, and Niall doesn’t rush him, though the urge to tighten his leg and just pull the Aussie into him is nearly overwhelming. Instead, he chooses to revel in it.

Ashton is barely all the way inside before Niall pulls him into a desperate kiss, pressing their bodies as close together as he can get them. Ashton’s fingers tangle with the ones of the hand that Niall doesn’t have fisted in his hair, and then he pulls back and thrusts back in hard.

Niall groans into the kiss, squeezing tight onto Ashton’s hand as he picks up the pace. The headboard smacks against the wall with the force of his thrusts, another instrument in the cacophony of sounds bouncing off the walls of Niall’s room, and it’s enough to deafen Niall’s ears to the promises that Eoghan and he had exchanged between the sheets that night.

Ashton pounds into him, hard and furious, so unlike the soft, caring touches that Eoghan had unraveled Niall’s body with back then. And that’s what Niall wants. He wants to be fucked and used by someone who doesn’t actually care about him. He wants pleasure for pleasure’s sake without having to worry about feelings getting in the way.

He doesn’t want the memories of Eoghan, doesn’t want to think about what the future holds with Harry becoming more and more blatant about what he might want. So he grips tight with his thighs around Ashton’s hips, laces his fingers through Ashton’s hair, grinds his cock up against Ashton’s stomach, explores Ashton’s mouth with his tongue- Fills himself with sensations courtesy of Ashton, because Ashton is completely uncomplicated for Niall.

The distinctly unsexy sound of the doorbell buzzes from downstairs as Niall gets closer, setting off Conan on a tirade of barking.

Ashton’s pace stutters, and Niall growls out, “Don’t stop!”

“Alright.” Ashton agrees breathlessly, ignoring the chaos that comes with more ringing of the bell and more barking like- Well - like a pro. He changes up his angle, aims directly at Niall’s prostate and fucks into him harder. And it hurts almost as much as it feels good, but it’s enough to have Niall whimpering and shaking, so fucking close to the edge. “Can you get there, or do you need a hand?”

“Hand- Please.” Niall whimpers, hoping that releasing the grip he has on Ashton’s hand is enough of a signal for what he wants, because he can barely hear himself over the noise from downstairs and inside the room.

Ashton gets his hand between their bodies and fists it around Niall’s cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. It only takes a few strokes before Niall is arcing off the mattress with a moan that rings off of the walls. His mind tries to go fuzzy, but Niall forces himself to stay in the moment, to feel every bit of what’s happening.

He feels the heat everywhere that his and Ashton’s bodies are pressed together, feels the pleasure rippling through him, feels his cock twitch with the last bits of his orgasm and the jerky throbs that signal Ashton’s following shortly after. He feels Ashton suck every bit of air out of his lungs before he crushes their lips together and groans it all back into him. He feels the pain and the slickness and the pleasure and the griminess and the calmness and the chaos that all swirl together as they come down together.

Ashton pulls out as gently as he can, but it still makes Niall hiss now that the pleasure has subsided.

“You okay?” Ashton asks.

“I will be.” Niall mutters, swinging his leg over the side of the bed as soon as Ashton is clear.

He grabs the sheets off of the floor and wipes the mess from his stomach. He needs a shower, a long one, but clearly that’s going to have to wait, given the way his doorbell is still ringing every thirty seconds or so. He has a sinking feeling in his stomach about who it could be, but there are a few possibilities after yesterday. His briefs are next, and then his joggers before he slips on his sock and Bobby.

“Someone really wants to see you.” Ashton hums, pulling on his jeans.

“Apparently.” Niall huffs, standing up off of the bed and heading over to his wardrobe. He pulls out the cut-out bible and asks, “How much does that add up to?”

“Seven fifty, plus another twenty for the party favors.” Ashton tells him.

“You’re forgetting the extra hour.” Niall says, counting out the cash.

“Came in a minute under the hour.” Ashton chuckles. “Don’t have to pay for time you didn’t start.”

“Alright.” Niall nods, gathering the payment and putting the book back. “Here you go.”

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Ashton smirks, tucking the money into his pocket. “Seriously. If you ever want to do this again, just call. I’ll even try to keep your birthday free if you want to meet up.”

“Trying to promote me from customer to client?” Niall asks.

“Wouldn’t mind having you as a client.” Ashton answers with a shrug.

“I’ll call.” Niall says quietly. “If- If I ever need to do this again, I’ll call.”

“Good.” Ashton grins. “I hope you do.”

The doorbell rings again before Niall can think of what to say in response to that, and, thankfully, it gives him an excuse not to have to. He wrenches open the door and makes his way downstairs with Ashton following behind him. Ashton slips over to the side of the entryway to finish getting ready.

Niall takes a deep breath before opening the door, unsure which of three people is most likely to be on the other side. He gets his answer in the form of a bone crushing hug as soon as the door is open, being held tight in an embrace he has to forcibly stop himself from melting into.

“Why did it take you so long to answer the door?” Harry asks into Niall’s neck. “I was fucking worried.”

“I was kind of in the middle of something.” Niall sighs. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

“I wanted to check on you.” Harry murmurs, pulling back only to put both his hands on Niall’s cheeks. “After yesterday-”

“I have a mobile.” Niall cuts him off. “It’s seven in the morning, Harry. I have today off. You had no reason to believe I was even awake.”

“I couldn’t sit around and leave you alone.” Harry mumbles.

“I wasn’t alone.” Niall huffs.

“What?” Harry asks confusedly, finally taking in Niall’s disheveled appearance. His eyes land on a mark that Ashton left on Niall’s collarbone, and Niall really wishes he had put on a shirt before coming downstairs so that he didn’t have to keep himself from squirming under Harry’s gaze. He steps back, looking like he’s been slapped as his hands drop away from Niall’s face, and stutters out, “You- I- What?”

“I think that’s my cue to get out of the way.” Ashton says quietly, stepping forward and pressing a quick kiss to Niall’s cheek before he whispers, “Don’t forget to call me if you need me, Niall.”

Harry recoils like Ashton is a snake trying to bite him as the Aussie walks out the door.

“Who the fuck was that?” Harry scowls.

“Someone who was actually invited.” Niall says icily. “I promised you I’d call someone and have them come over here, so I did.”

“I didn’t mean someone for you to fu-” Harry starts to yell, only to be cut off by the sound of another familiar voice.

“Niall?” Louis asks softly from the step outside the house. “Can we talk?”

“No.” Niall says harshly, both furious and grateful for Louis’ arrival. At least it’s shut Harry up before things could get too complicated. “You had three months to talk to me, Louis. And you don’t get to dictate my behavior, Harry. Both of you need to go. Now.”

“Niall-” they both say at the same time, making the blond’s head pulse with the beginnings of a migraine.

“Go!” Niall shouts, placing his hand on Harry’s chest and pushing him backwards until he’s back outside. “You two do not get a fucking say in how I live my life. You don’t get to fight me when I say I don’t want you here. I fired you, Louis. I told you that I never want to see you again, and I meant it. Give me my key and get off of my property before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

“This is how you’re going to end things?” Louis asks weakly. “After everything, you’re going to cut me off for one mistake?”

“It’s been three months of mistakes!” Niall roars. “Three months where my best friend kept secrets from me! Three months where my best friend made me feel like I was someone that he couldn’t trust to tell who he was in a relationship with! Three months where two of the only people I thought I could trust lied to me every day because they didn’t care enough about me to tell me the truth instead of letting me find out by walking in on it!

“It’s not one mistake, Louis, and you fucking know that. I can’t trust you anymore, and you chose to let that happen. You know- You know what he did to me, how he kept secrets from me and lied to me and destroyed me with it. You know that the most important thing to me is honesty, but you didn’t care. You treated me like a patient while pretending that you were my friend, and now I’m neither. That’s not on me. That’s on you.”

“Why won’t you let me explain myself?” Louis asks, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Because you had more than enough time to do that when I still would have trusted a word out of your mouth.” Niall tells him. “Put my key in the planter, and leave.”

He starts to close the door, but Harry’s palm smacks against it and he quietly pleads, “Don’t kick me out again, Niall. Please.”

“I can’t have you around right now, Harry.” Niall whispers.

“Why?” Harry asks brokenly. “Why do you keep pushing me away too?”

“The way you just reacted to Ashton- That’s why.” Niall admits.

“Niall, I-” Harry starts.

“See you around, Harry.” Niall says gently. “Not goodbye. Just- Just see you around.”

“Okay.” Harry mumbles, dropping his hand away from the door and letting Niall finally close it and be alone.

He heads straight for the sitting room, unlocking the door and dropping to his knees to take Conan into his arms when the lab rushes to him. He buries his face in Conan’s fur and really cries for the first time since his world collapsed for the second time.


	18. Chapter 18

“It’s been two weeks, Niall. How long are you going to keep this up?” Liam asks, placing Bobby on the table and popping open the panel on the side.

“Somewhere between forever and eternity.” Niall says flatly. “I didn’t come here to talk, Liam. I came because I’m required by the trial to have Bobby examined once a month, and you’re the only prosthetist in the whole south of the country to be certified by the company.”

“He’s worried sick about you.” Liam sighs. “He barely eats or sleeps. He picks up the phone to call you a hundred times a day before he remembers that he can’t anymore. He misses you, Niall. We both do.”

“I don’t care, Liam.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “I really, honestly do not care.”

“How can you be that selfish?” Liam asks harshly.

“How can you be that thick?” Niall fires back at him.

“Because you’re punishing us for being together!” Liam growls, slamming his palms on the table.

“This isn’t a fucking punishment, Liam!” Niall snaps. “And it isn’t about you being together! It’s about all the fucking lies from two of the only people I could trust! This is about the way you two hid it from me, and left me feeling like shite the whole goddamn time because my best friend turned our relationship into a one way street! This is about you two leaving me in the dark and lying to me to spare me! This is about you two being Eoghan all over again!”

“We didn’t want to hurt you, Niall.” Liam says gently. “We just- We just wanted to figure things out for ourselves before we brought other people in on it.”

“What are you even doing with him, Liam?” Niall asks. “As far as you’ve told me, you’ve only ever been with women.”

“I’ve been with blokes before.” Liam says with a shrug. “I mostly date women, yeah, but that’s because they generally match what I’m looking for in a partner more closely. It’s about personality, not what they’ve got between their legs. I didn’t tell you I’m bi because it didn’t matter.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” Niall agrees. “What matters is that you both hid this from me. It matters that I can’t trust either of you anymore. This isn’t a punishment, Liam. I just- I can’t have anyone in my life that I don’t trust. Not ever again.”

“Haven’t we earned a second chance?” Liam asks quietly.

“I don’t have that in me to give.” Niall whispers. “I can’t, Liam. It’s not that I don’t care about you guys, or that I don’t miss you too. It’s not even that I want to do this. I lost my best friends, for god’s sake. It’s that I can’t feel safe or comfortable around people who hide the truth from me. I wish you guys the best. I really do. I just can’t have you two playing any sort of personal role in my life going forward. If this were any other circumstance, Louis would be on my side in this. He’d tell me to cut out the people who make me feel like I’m right back in there with him again, and that’s you two now.”

“He keeps your slots open.” Liam mumbles, turning back towards Bobby to do his checkup. “He refuses to fill them.”

“Tell him to take on a new patient.” Niall sighs.

“You try telling Lou what to do.” Liam snorts, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he runs the panel-check. It’s gentle, fond in a way that Niall hasn’t seen on Liam’s face when he talks about someone since before his girlfriend left him. And Niall meant it when he said that he can’t have them in his life anymore, but it’s still nice to see that look back on his face.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Niall asks.

“I think I might love him.” Liam breathes out, the smile tugging at his lips even more. “He tried to break up with me, you know. He thought you might let him back in if he did.”

“He can be stupid sometimes.” Niall says, shaking his head. “But he’s worth it if you stick through that. Loves people with his entire being. You have to be patient with him, alright? He can be a lot to deal with, but he’s worth it if anyone is.”

“I know.” Liam hums, closing Bobby back up and bringing it over to Niall. “Everything is looking good. I’ll see you next month. Call if there’s any problems, no matter how small. You know the whole spiel by now.”

“I will.” Niall says with a nod, slipping Bobby back on.

“I’m serious, Niall.” Liam says quietly. “I know that the personal side of our relationship is over, but I need to know that you’re not going to let that affect the professional side. I don’t want to see you miss out on this trial just because you don’t want to call me for help. I don’t want to see you cut off your nose to spite your face.”

“I’ve had enough body parts cut off, thanks.” Niall scoffs. “I’m not stupid enough to put my pride first. I’ll call if I need to.”

“Alright.” Liam says with a nod. “Bye.”

He heads for the door after that, but turns back when he reaches it and adds, “I know you don’t like thinking about it, but- Happy birthday.”

“You too.” Niall says back. “I know it’s late, but hope you had a good one.”

“Well, it was the day after, so- Not really.” Liam mumbles. “Thanks, though. Bye, Niall.”

 

“We need to talk.” Bressie says, sitting on the edge of Niall’s desk.

“It’s not my fault I was late getting back.” Niall sighs. “The bus pulled away right as I was walking up to it. I can only my so fast.”

“I’m not talking about that.” Bressie snorts. “But don’t think that I haven’t noticed the wrapper from that place that does your favorite veggie burgers sitting in the bin.”

“If I use my lunch break to go to an appointment, I should at least still eat while I’m out.” Niall huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Being angry all the time burns a lot of calories.”

“Appointments are what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.” Bressie says quietly. “Haven’t seen Louis around lately, and you haven’t been leaving to go see him either.”

“No.” Niall says stiffly, looking down at his hands.

“Why is that?” Bressie asks.

“I fired him.” Niall admits in a mumble.

“Jaysus, Niall.” Bressie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why-”

“Because he was sleeping with Liam, okay?” Niall heads him off. “He’s been with Liam for months, and they hid it from me, and I can’t trust him anymore, so I fired him as my bloody therapist.”

“I was going to ask why you didn’t tell me.” Bressie says gently, dropping his hand onto Niall’s shoulder.

“I wanted a place where I could feel normal.” Niall breathes out, crossing his arms on his desk and laying his head down in the space between his biceps. “Not seeing him at the house feels weird, and keeping a purely professional relationship with Liam so that I don’t have to travel up to bloody Leeds for every appointment with a prosthetist is weird, and- And I just wanted somewhere that I could come to without having to feel weird. I didn’t want to talk about it because I wanted somewhere that I didn’t have to think about it. This is the only thing I have in my life that isn’t completely weird or shite anymore.”

“Alright.” Bressie nods. “I don’t think ignoring your problems is the best way to handle them, but you can always think of this as a safe space. You can also always talk to me, Niall. It doesn’t have to be just one or the other.”

“I know.” Niall says, turning his head to the side to look up at Bressie. “But I’m not ready to talk about it right now. Especially not today. There is something that I wanted to talk to you about though.”

“Shoot.” Bressie hums.

“It’s been three months since the Murs job, and I still haven’t gotten paid for it.” Niall grumbles, sitting back in his chair. “Every check has been my usual amount.”

“Ah, yeah, I was waiting to tell you until tomorrow.” Bressie says sheepishly.

“They aren’t using it, are they?” Niall sighs. “I still did four hours of work on the guitar. It’s not fair that I don’t get paid anything for that, even if they aren’t using it.”

“No, they’re using it.” Bressie tells him, stepping away from Niall’s desk and walking into his office. He returns a moment later with a thick envelope and passes it over, casually adding, “And they’re using the versions of the tracks that you produced.”

“What?” Niall asks, dumbstruck. He feels as though he’s just seen a firework go off directly in front of his face, and he’s sure he looks that way too. “You’re fucking lying.”

“I’m not.” Bressie chuckles, shaking his head. “Apparently Murs loved your cuts. Your portion of the pay is in there. Around thirty-five-thousand pounds, give or take a bit.”

“Did they give it to me in cash?” Niall asks incredulously, looking at the thick packet in his hands. “And why would they pay so bloody much for it, even if they are using it?”

“Because they’re using one of them as the lead single off of the album.” Bressie grins. “Your version of a song is going to be on every top-forty radio station in the western world, according to his manager. They’re going big with this one.”

“Jaysus.” Niall breathes out. He doesn’t even know how to feel. He never expected to have his versions of the track paid attention to, let alone chosen. Hearing that it’s going to be the lead single makes him feel like he’s flying and falling at the same time.

“And the reason that envelope is so thick is because he wants to bring you on as his producer for the rest of the album.” Bressie continues. “And, depending on how your work there goes, the record label may want to bring you on as an in-house producer. There’s a contract in there.”

“Why?” Niall squawks. “I don’t have any experience!”

“You’re a natural.” Bressie beams. “And I have to say, I think you should take it, and not just because they’ve offered to pay me a ten percent scouting fee for bringing you to them if I get you to sign.”

“Ten percent of what?” Niall asks, gripping tight onto the packet.

“Your signing bonus.” Bressie tells him. “Which is- Let’s go with ‘substantial’.”

“How long do I have to decide?” Niall asks, biting at his lip.

“A week from today.” Bressie says gently. “And I want you to really think about it, because it would be a good opportunity for you, but it would also mean a lot of work and stress in your future. Take your time with this decision. Don’t feel pressured to go either way. Just choose what feels right for you.”

Fucking hell.

A week. A week is all Niall has to decide what direction his future is going to take. He has to decide within seven days whether he wants to stick to the relative level of stability that he’s found in his life here with the studio and Bressie and the boys, or if he wants to take a chance on a future that may catapult him into bigger things.

“Tonight, you’re going to ring up your mate Harry, and then you’re going to come to the pub with us to celebrate.” Bressie says, snapping Niall out of his daze.

“Why?” Niall questions.

“Because you deserve it.” Bressie laughs. “And, more than that, you look like you could use it.”

“No- Why Harry?” Niall asks.

“Because it’s about time that I meet him.” Bressie answers with a shrug. “And because, if Louis and Liam aren’t in the picture anymore, then I need to know that you’ve at least got someone else to turn to besides me who’s a half-decent bloke. I’ve got a duty to inspect the men in your life.”

“Get out of here!” Niall hisses, smacking Bressie’s leg with the envelope. “He’s not my boyfriend, and you’re not my da!”

“No, I’m more like your much handsomer older brother.” Bressie smirks, putting his foot on the side of Niall’s chair and giving it a push to send him backwards too far to beat the giant bloody arsehole in front of him anymore. “I’m not old enough to be your da. Call him and tell him to join us. I don’t want any excuses.”

“It’s short notice and he lives in Oxford!” Niall groans, grabbing ahold of Conan’s handle when the lab wakes up and walks over to Niall’s new location, letting him take the blond back to his desk where he curls up underneath it again and goes back to dozing on Niall’s foot. “He might not even be able to make it if he did want to come and happened to be free!”

“Tell him that the drinks are on you.” Bressie snorts. “That usually works with anyone.”

“How the fuck did I get roped into paying when you’re forcing me to go out to celebrate?” Niall scoffs.

“Because you just made thirty-five-thousand quid, wee one.” Bressie grins.

“Fine, but you’re taking me to the bank, and to drop Conan off at the house before we go.” Niall huffs. “Don’t need to spend the whole night telling drunks not to pet him and worrying about what he’ll lick off of the floor.”

“Deal.” Bressie hums, sauntering towards the door.

“Wait-” Niall calls after him. “This- It’s just about the tracks, right? Not about today?”

“Course.” Bressie says with a nod and a soft look in his eyes. “Today is just like any other day, yeah? Nothing special.”

“Nothing special.” Niall breathes out in a sigh of relief. Bressie disappears, leaving Niall with the envelope, a list of unanswered questions, and a heavy weight of anxiety in his stomach.

He and Harry haven’t seen each other since the morning after Niall’s night with Ashton. They haven’t even spoken on the phone. They’ve texted, but Niall has been keeping Harry at a distance since then. Harry has tried of course, has asked almost every single day if they could do something together, and Niall knows, unfortunately, that Harry is free tonight and will probably be more than willing to drive out to London for any reason, as long as it means that they’ll see each other.

That’s exactly the problem that has Niall dialing another number before he rings up Harry, not even hesitating before he presses the call button, and, when the phone is picked up, asking, “Hey- Have you really kept tonight free?”

 

“Niall!” Harry calls enthusiastically, waving as if Niall hadn’t already been able to pick him out from across the room the instant that he walked into the pub.

He flits between the tables, ignoring the huffs and grumbles from the regular patrons of the pub until he’s practically chest to chest with Niall, grinning as if he’s won the lottery instead of being called up last minute to come to a dingy little pub for a vague celebration. He’s not dressed for this place at all, in white jeans that fit far too snugly for polite company, and a floral-patterned, sheer silk shirt that he only has buttoned up to his tits.

The most shocking part by far though, is the fact that Harry’s long, stunning curls have been shorn down to no more than a few inches long. And he still looks good, yeah - probably couldn’t look bad if he tried, honestly - but the transformation is shocking, to say the least.

He leans in until his nose is touching Niall’s and he looks like his eyes have gone crossed, and breathes out, “Hey. Hi.”

“You weren’t kidding about the personal space thing, were you?” Bressie snorts off to Niall’s right.

“Jesus!” Harry gasps, straightening back up and clutching at his bare chest. “How does a bloke as big as you sneak up on someone?”

“Been standing here the whole time.” Bressie hums, smirking as he looks down at Niall. “Now I see what you mean when you talk about him.”

“Right?” Niall asks wearily.

“So you talk about me to your boss?” Harry giggles, holding out his hand to Bressie. “Nice to meet you. I’m Harry.”

“Niall Breslin.” Bressie says, shaking Harry’s hand real quick with an annoying smile plastered on his face. “Most people call me Bressie, though.”

“Can I call you ‘Big Niall’?” Harry asks with a cheeky grin, pulling a laugh out of Bressie.

“No.” Niall says flatly. “Because then he starts calling me-”

“Be nice, wee one.” Bressie laughs.

Niall groans and rolls his eyes, muttering a quick, “Fuck you both,” before he heads to the bar.

“Do you really talk about me at work?” Harry asks, slipping in next to Niall a moment later.

“Occasionally.” Niall grunts out. “What did you do to your hair?”

“Had it cut?” Harry says, all his swagger and cheek deflating out of him and leaving his answer to sound like a question.

“I’m surprised you didn’t already tell me.” Niall snorts, trying to put Harry back at ease. The last thing he needs right now is for Bressie to yell at him for running Harry off. “You send me about a hundred pics a day, about everything. I know the entire layout of your house, how you organize your kitchen, and what faces you make on the loo because you never stop sending pics.”

“Okay, those faces are exaggerated.” Harry giggles, relaxing a bit as Niall looks over at him. “And I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Why did you cut it?” Niall asks him. “Seems like it probably took a while to grow out.”

“I only grew it out in the first place to donate to charity.” Harry answers. “I’ve been hesitating for a while because I liked it long, but-”

“‘But’ what?” Niall questions.

“I’m not a kid, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “I’m not just some naïve kid who doesn’t understand the world or pain or relationships. I know what lo-”

“I get it.” Niall cuts him off mid-word. He reaches out and tugs on Harry’s ear, adding, “You’re not a kid. Even if you do have tiny, little baby ears.”

“I’ve missed you.” Harry murmurs, hand coming up to cup over the one that Niall has on the side of his face.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, finally showing up after having spent the whole time Niall’s been there chatting up some bird. That’s fine with Niall. He had no idea how to respond to Harry’s confession anyways, so the timing is perfect.

“Whiskey.” Niall mutters. He hadn’t planned on drinking tonight, won’t have another one after this, but he needs something to take the edge off. “Something hard.”

“ID, please.” the bartender requests.

And, fuck- Niall forgot that that’s the reason they even come to this pub. The owner has a strict policy about checking IDs for anyone who appears to be under thirty. The boys started coming here regularly because Dec and Killian paid off the bartender to ask Bressie for his ID, and he made an arse out of himself all night, acting the fool because he thought he looked like he was in his twenties to someone. Now the bartenders always check his ID for every drink as a joke, and everyone else takes the piss out of him.

He pulls his wallet out, shows the ID off in the hopes that the year will be all the bartender reads, but he isn’t that lucky and the bloke says, “Happy birthday! First one is on the house.”

“No.” Niall grunts out, slapping two hundred-pound notes on the counter. “This one here’s drinks, and the rest of my group’s, are on me tonight. And there’ll be another one joining us later that’s on it too. That should cover us, but let me know if we hit it.”

“Will do, Mister Horan.” the bartender nods, making Niall feel a bit guilty that he doesn’t know the bloke’s name in return. He looks familiar, but Niall draws a blank. He’s terrible about that kind of thing now.

“It’s your birthday?” Harry asks quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t celebrate it.” Niall sighs.

“Why not?” Harry asks.

“Because when I was brought back here after Syria and a quick hospital stay in Germany, the only thing that was missing was my foot.” Niall mutters. “There was an infection, and they took up a few inches above my ankle. For months after that, I was in pain. They told me it was natural, that it was phantom limb, and then I collapsed while I was trying to stand up, because my tibia broke and snapped out through my skin. Turns out that they hadn’t gotten all of the infection like they thought they had, and it had been slowly eating my bone from the inside out for all that time, and they had to amputate to three inches above my knee. That was what happened on my last birthday. And my first birthday is the day that my mother took my brother and left us behind. Birthdays are just a curse for me.”

“Jesus.” Harry breathes out.

“So I don’t celebrate them, and I don’t like talking about it, and I don’t want to anymore, alright?” Niall begs quietly.

“Of course.” Harry nods, placing his hand on Niall’s elbow. “Can I ask what we’re here to celebrate then?”

“Remember the Murs thing?” Niall asks. “They picked my versions of his tracks, and they’re pushing one as the lead single, and they want me to be his producer for this album and maybe bring me into the label as a full-time producer if I do a good job.”

“Niall, that’s amazing!” Harry beams.

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to take it yet.” Niall admits. “It would take me away from Bressie and the lads, and it would be a lot of stress that I’m not sure I can handle.”

“I think you aren’t giving yourself enough credit.” Harry murmurs, stroking his thumb over the bare skin of Niall’s arm and making him shiver.

“I-” Niall starts to say, though he’s not sure how he’s going to continue. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, because the creak of the door draws his attention and he looks over to see a familiar face.

Ashton waves and smiles warmly once he sees Niall, making his way over. Harry, on the other hand, stiffens next to Niall and takes his hand back.

“Sorry I’m late, babe.” Ashton says, pressing a quick kiss to Niall’s cheek. “Had an appointment I had to keep. Hi, you’re Harry, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Ashton.”

He sticks out his hand to shake, but Harry makes no move to take it, instead sneering and muttering, “Haven’t heard anything about you.”

“Alright then.” Ashton hums, apparently unfazed by Harry’s rude behavior. “I need to use the loo real quick. Watch my jacket?”

“Of course.” Niall nods, taking the jacket when it’s handed to him. He pulls out the wad of notes he’d picked up at the bank when depositing his check, and slips them discretely into the pocket. Ashton is already walking away, but Niall waits until he’s out of earshot to turn to Harry and ask, “Can you please try not to make tonight any more difficult than it already is?”

“Sorry.” Harry huffs. “Didn’t realize he was coming, is all.”

“Does that matter?” Niall questions.

“Clearly not.” Harry sighs, stepping away from the bar and walking over to grab the pint that he’d been nursing when Niall got there.

 

Harry, as it turns out, is a lightweight. This information is hardly surprising, but it’s still a challenge to deal with. He’s a tactile, giggling, drunken mess after only a few beers, and he’s become a bit more to have to handle than Niall had originally anticipated.

The lads all find it very amusing, but Niall doesn’t. He’d called Ashton to work as a sort of buffer, but Harry refuses to be rebuffed. He’s cheeky and bright and does a wonderful job of charming Bressie, but he’s also kind of like a dog in heat. He keeps touching Niall, a hand here and there, his foot wrapped around Niall’s ankle, resting his head on the blond’s shoulder, a brush of lips on an ear as he whispers things he doesn’t really need to whisper, and more than one full-bodied press against him.

Luckily, he’s now gotten it in his head to play pool against Ashton in some sort of competitive impulse, and that’s giving Niall a few minutes to breathe without his senses being assaulted with a storm of HarryHarryHarry. Unfortunately, that means that Bressie can finally corner Niall alone.

“So- This is more interesting than I thought it would be.” Bressie hums, leaning against the wall next to Niall. “You didn’t mention that Harry wants in your trousers so badly he’s almost ready to mount you in public, or Ashton- At all.”

“He doesn’t want in my trousers.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s just a flirt and the alcohol is making him a bit more touchy-feely than usual. And things with Ash are- Complicated.”

“I thought you didn’t want a bloke.” Bressie points out.

“We aren’t in a relationship.” Niall says flatly.

“Well, clearly there’s something going on between you two, because Harry refuses to be nice to him, which should tell you that things with Harry are more than just flirting and alcohol. Jealousy has to have a reason.” Bressie argues.

“When everything went down with Louis, Harry refused to leave until I promised that I would call someone.” Niall sighs. “I think he expected me to call you, but I called Ashton because you were sick. Harry likes to feel needed, and I think that calling Ashton was kind of like a slap in the face for him. That’s why he’s acting like that towards Ashton.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself.” Bressie says with a scoff. “The lads and myself are going to head out now. We’re not in our twenties anymore, and it’s getting a bit late.”

“Get out of here then, old man.” Niall snorts. “Thanks for everything, Bress.”

“Behave yourself, and try to keep those two from killing each other, yeah?” Bressie hums, ruffling his fingers through Niall’s fringe. “I don’t want my favorite pub getting shut down just because your blokes decided to have it out and turn this place into a crime scene.”

“They aren’t ‘my blokes.’” Niall scowls.

“Oh, and, for what it’s worth, I like them both, but I think Harry would be better for you.” Bressie says softly. “He’d fight for you.”

“Don’t, Bress.” Niall breathes out.

“Night, wee one.” Bressie murmurs, pulling Niall into a one-armed hug and then walking off to meet up with the other lads by the door.

“Niall!” Harry whines, snapping the blond’s attention back to the spectacle in front of him. “He cheated!”

“Just for the record, I didn’t.” Ashton hums from where he’s leaning against the table with a playful smirk. “Harry is just bad at this game.”

“I’m not a referee.” Niall tells them. “Harry- Jaysus- What are you doing to your cue?”

“D’you think I could dance on it?” Harry asks, holding it in place against the ground and grinding against it slowly. “Or does it like - need to be attached to the ceiling?”

“Christ.” Niall mutters, taking the brunet by the elbow and leading him back to the booth after he sets the cue on the table. “Just- Just sit down, alright?”

“Alright.” Harry agrees chirpily, grabbing his pint off of the table and downing it before Niall can even slide into the side opposite him.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Niall sighs.

“I can’t see how it would be a bad one.” Harry says, shooting a look over at Ashton, who’s ordering a drink at the bar. “Don’t see you policing his drinks.”

“That’s his second one of the night.” Niall points out. “That makes- What? Six for you?”

“Seven.” Harry mutters. “Drank a full one before you got here to calm my nerves.”

“What nerves?” Niall asks. “You sounded excited when I called.”

“Because I was finally getting to see you again.” Harry breathes out. “I thought you were finally letting me out of the doghouse.”

“You weren’t in the doghouse, Harry.” Niall sighs. “I just thought you could use some space.”

“I didn’t want space, Niall.” Harry says, looking up and meeting Niall’s eyes so that it feels like all of his thick, tall, carefully constructed walls have become as transparent as a clean window. “You did.”

“Can you blame me?” Niall asks weakly.

“No.” Harry admits, shaking his head. “I should have expected it, honestly. You got scared, and you pushed me away. My mistake was letting you push me away when I care about you the way that I do.”

“I- I-” Niall stammers, caught off guard by the bluntness in Harry’s voice.

“Got you another coke.” Ashton says, sliding into the booth beside Niall. “Noticed you were out. And I got you another beer, Harry.”

“Thanks.” Niall croaks out, looking away from Harry and down at the drink Ashton places in front of him. His arm curls around Niall’s shoulder, and the blond leans into it, grateful for the distraction. He hears Harry scoff, but doesn’t have the courage to look up and meet his eyes.

“Where did you come from, Ashton?” Harry asks, an edge to his voice that hasn’t been dulled by even his seven drinks.

“Sidney.” Ashton answers, removing his arm from Niall’s shoulders and settling his hand on Niall’s thigh beneath the table instead.

“No, I mean- I’ve known Niall for months, and he’s never mentioned you before.” Harry says flatly. “Not once.”

“We only met a few weeks ago.” Ashton tells him. His hand moves until it’s cupping over Niall’s cock. It twitches to life almost immediately once Ashton begins stroking him. God- He’s fucking amazing with his hands. “And I don’t see why it matters if he’s ever mentioned me before.”

“How did you meet?” Harry asks. Something touches the inside of Niall’s leg, and the blond almost jumps at the unexpected contact. But Harry shoots him a look that stops the strangled groan he’s about to let out dead in his throat, and Niall knows it’s him. And- Fuck- What is even happening? Why is Niall fucking letting it happen?

“Through my work.” Ashton hums. Niall’s breath hitches in his throat, and he’s not sure if it’s because Ashton could mention his work, or because of Ashton’s hand, or because of Harry’s foot.

“And what do you do?” Harry questions, tickling his toes up the inside of Niall’s thigh.

“I’m a licensed massage therapist.” Ashton chuckles. And, well, he’s not technically lying, but Niall gulps anyways. It’s too much. Harry’s foot is getting closer, and Ashton’s hand is working him with more purpose and they’re all tap-dancing around a fucking grenade right now, but Niall’s can’t get his mouth to work properly because his whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Isn’t it against some kind of code of conduct to fuck your clients?” Harry asks with a sneer. His toes press down over the head of Niall’s dick where he’s hard down the leg of his jeans, probably thinks he’s the reason for that, and his smirk is legendary.

“Stop!” Niall gasps out. “Jesus!”

Ashton’s hand and Harry’s foot both pull away immediately, and not a moment too soon. They were about half a second from meeting each other under the table, and Niall doesn’t even want to know what would have happened then.

“What are you doing?” Niall asks shakily. “This isn’t the fucking inquisition, Harry.”

“Bressie asked me a bunch of questions.” Harry shrugs. He’s shifting around a bit, and Niall prays that it’s because he’s putting his boot back on, not getting ready for round two. “I thought it would only be fair for Ashton to answer some about himself, too.”

“Find the line, Harry.” Niall grits out. “And stop fucking crossing it.”

“I’m going to get another drink.” Harry mutters, stepping out of the booth, erection completely fucking evident in his jeans.

“Ashton just got you one.” Niall points out.

“I need something stronger.” Harry scoffs, heading back towards the bar.

“Okay- If you want him to join in, it’s going to cost extra.” Ashton chuckles. “Like- More than my usual rate for a threesome.”

“Not happening!” Niall growls.

“Just making the offer.” Ashton hums. “I’m pretty sure he hates me, but he’d probably do it anyways, for you.”

“It’s not like that.” Niall says, but it comes out weak and unsure. The thing with Harry just now has thrown him. It’s a lot harder to deny that someone might be attracted to you after they try to wank you off under a table in a pub with their foot. But that doesn’t mean Niall isn’t going to stick to his guns.

“If you say so.” Ashton replies nonchalantly, but Niall can tell he’s barely suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

“He’s just a friend, Ash.” Niall mumbles. “That’s all we’ll ever be to each other.”

 

“Harry, give me your keys.” Niall sighs.

“I’ll be fine, Niall.” Harry protests.

“Give me your fucking keys!” Niall snaps, trying to grab them out of the brunet’s hand.

Harry just raises them above his head, smirking as he says, “Make me.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Niall groans.

“I’m not the only one here who’s being difficult, Niall.” Harry breathes out, his other arm coming up behind Niall’s back to pull him in until they’re chest to chest. “I don’t know why you keep fighting me.”

“Harry- Stop.” Niall pleads breathlessly.

“I left because I didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were vulnerable.” Harry murmurs, paying Niall’s begging no mind. “You weren’t supposed to call someone like him.”

“Harry, you’re drunk.” Niall sighs, putting his hands on the brunet’s chest. “Just give me your keys. You can come home with me tonight and crash in the other bedroom.”

“What if I want to crash in your bedroom?” Harry asks, leaning in until his breath is fanning over Niall’s lips.

“That’s not a good idea.” Niall tells him. “Harry, please- Just- Just come to mine and sleep this off.”

“I will.” Harry hums. “If you give me a kiss.”

“If you want that, is this really how you’d want it to happen?” Niall asks him. “Pissed off your arse in a parking lot as an act of coercion with Ashton watching us?”

“If that’s all I can get.” Harry answers after a minute.

“That’s not what either of us wants, Harry, and we both know it.” Niall mutters.

“What do you want, Niall?” Harry asks.

“Right now, I just want you to be safe.” Niall answers.

“Alright.” Harry says softly, lowering his keys into Niall’s hand. “Can Conan sleep with me?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “I think he’d like that.”

“Thanks.” Harry breathes out, relinquishing his hold on Niall and walking over towards the Aussie’s car. He climbs in without a fuss, and he’s snoring in the back seat by the time Niall gets in.

“Thank you for this.” Niall says once Ashton has started driving them back to the blond’s house.

“What you decide to do during your time is your own business.” Ashton answers with a shrug. “But it has been four hours already.”

“I didn’t really call you because I was looking for a shag.” Niall admits. “Just- I just needed something that made me feel like I was in control for a minute.”

“Is that why you stopped me earlier?” Ashton asks.

“Wasn’t really looking to cum in my fucking pants either.” Niall tells him. He leaves out the part about Harry because he can’t even fucking process that right now. “Especially right then. Besides, I thought you’d be relieved. A full night’s pay without having to do anything besides keep me company.”

“You act like my job is a chore for me.” Ashton snorts. “I happen to like making you feel good, Niall.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t decide it wasn’t worth putting up with after all that back at the pub.” Niall mumbles. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Believe me, I’ve dealt with worse.” Ashton chuckles. “Jealousy issues are nothing new to me. Normally it’s from a couple that have hired me for a night of fun though. Can’t say I’ve ever dealt with anything quite like this.”

“Neither have I.” Niall sighs. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him tonight. He’s never been like this before.”

“Has he ever had a reason to be before?” Ashton asks.

“He doesn’t have a reason to be tonight.” Niall huffs.

Ashton only grunts in response, and it’s obvious that he wants to disagree, but he thankfully keeps his mouth shut about it. Niall doesn’t speak either, unless it’s to tell Ashton where to turn.

This night has taken a very different turn from what Niall expected before he spoke to Bressie, and he wishes that he’d stuck to his original plan of staying in bed with all the lights off and a blanket pulled up to his eyes as he spent the night watching golf instead. That sounds vastly superior to everything that’s happened so far.

Honestly, fuck birthdays.

“That’s me, up there on the right.” Niall tells him.

“I remember.” Ashton nods.

“Thanks for showing up.” Niall says once Ashton pulls up in front of his house. “Not really sure how I would have handled tonight otherwise. I’m sorry about- Well- Everything.”

“I told you that I’d keep tonight open for you.” Ashton chuckles. “Wednesdays are light for me anyways. And tonight has been - interesting – so far.”

“Is that your diplomatic way of putting it?” Niall scoffs, unfastening this seatbelt.

“It’s my way of saying that I had a good time, despite the circumstances.” Ashton hums, resting his hand on Niall’s leg. “And I kind of hope that this isn’t all your way of trying to dismiss me before I get my hands on you properly.”

“I have to get him inside and into bed.” Niall sighs, looking into the backseat. Harry is curled up in the most uncomfortable looking way, with his leg spread over the backseat, his hands tucked in between his thighs, and his face mashed against the window that keeps fogging up with every snore he lets out. Niall has to look away again once something in his stomach flips over at the sight.

“Yeah, and then I have a feeling that you could use some distraction.” Ashton murmurs. “You’ve got two more hours until you’d have to pay for more, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Money is the last thing I’m worried about right now.” Niall says, looking up towards the roof of the car. “But you’re right. I could use the distraction, if you’re up for spending the night.”

“I’ll even help you get him inside.” Ashton grins.

“You don’t have to do that.” Niall mumbles.

“Just consider me full-service.” Ashton snorts. “Besides, he looks a bit big for you.”

“I’m stronger than I look.” Niall huffs.

“Oh, I know.” Ashton hums, teasing his fingers up Niall’s arm. “But he’s got to have a good three inches on you, and more than a few kilos. He’ll be awkward to deal with, at the very least.”

“I’m not daft enough to turn down help if I need it and it’s offered.” Niall says with a shrug. “But I hope you’re not expecting a tip.”

“Just the tip of your dick in my mouth in a few minutes.” Ashton hums, climbing out of the car before Niall can respond with anything other than a sputtering laugh. If Harry didn’t hate Ashton so much, they’d probably get along fairly well with that sense of humor.

He reaches into the back seat and shakes Harry’s knee, gently saying, “Harry, we’re here. I need you to wake up a bit so that we can get you inside.”

“Just let me sleep here.” Harry whines, trying to burrow further into the seat.

“I have a feeling that you’re going to need a loo in the morning.” Niall tells him. “Wouldn’t be good to have you razz all over Ashton’s car.”

“Says you.” Harry mutters.

“I’m not bringing Conan out here just to sleep in a car with you all night.” Niall sighs.

“Fine.” Harry grunts, opening up the door and crawling out.

Niall gets out after that to find Harry stumbling towards the house, and it’s like watching a newborn giraffe trying to walk. Harry isn’t wonderfully coordinated at the best of times, but now, with sleep and alcohol weighing him down, he’s that much worse. It doesn’t help that he’s fighting every attempt that Ashton makes to steady him.

Ashton reaches for him for the third time since Niall got out of the car, and it’s lucky that the blond has gotten close enough to grab ahold of him, because he nearly falls on his face when he swings his arm at Ashton and roars, “Don’t you touch me!”

“Harry, stop it!” Niall snaps, hauling the younger lad around. “Ashton, you take my keys and open the door. I think it’s better if I handle this alone. Just- Just wait for me, yeah?”

He hands off his keys after Ashton nods, and then wraps his arms around Harry once he’s settled down. Harry’s arms come up and wrap around Niall’s shoulders, and he buries his face in Niall’s neck. It makes it a bit awkward to move, but Niall will take it, because at least he’s stopped being so fucking combative.

He walks Harry inside, going step by step up the stairs until he finally gets Harry laid out in Bobby’s old bed. He hasn’t been in here in over a year, still sleeps in his old bed because he can’t bring himself to be in this room for longer than a few minutes at a time. He slumps Harry against the wall and sets about changing the linens, but Harry just flops onto it. There’s probably a healthy coating of dust on the bed, but Niall isn’t going to fight him if he doesn’t want to wait.

He heads back downstairs real quick and finds Conan playing with Ashton in the sitting room. As soon as Niall whistles for him, Conan bounds over and jumps up to put his paws on Niall’s chest and lay kisses on his chin.

“Yeah, yeah.” Niall snorts fondly. “I missed you too, bud. I’ve got a surprise upstairs for you. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

Conan bolts away from Niall at that, running up the stairs.

“Thought you didn’t like the dog watching?” Ashton asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“He was raised by Harry.” Niall explains as he walks up the stairs. “Harry asked if Conan could sleep in there with him tonight, so I said he could.”

“I see.” Ashton hums, following behind Niall.

As Niall expected, Conan is waiting for him in his bed when the blond reaches the door, so he says, “Ash, you can wait here. Conan, come with me.”

Conan looks confused, tilting his head to the side, but he hops off of the bed and trots over to Niall. Niall leads him into Bobby’s old room, and then nearly has a heart attack when he finds Harry spread out stark fucking naked on the duvet.

“What the fuck, Harry?” Niall hisses. “Put your pants on!”

“I’m too warm.” Harry mumbles, rubbing his face in the pillow and then blinking back over his shoulder at Niall.

And- Christ- How can someone look so bloody sinful, and still so innocent at the same time? His body is so fucking lean and smooth, catching the moonlight streaming in through the window like it’s meant for him to wear. His eyes are soft, but the lip he has tucked between his teeth isn’t, never mind the way he shifts so that his arse is sticking up just the slightest bit.

“It- That’s my da’s bed, Harry.” Niall breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut to block everything before it can overtake him. “Can you just wear some fucking pants?”

“Fine.” Harry acquiesces after a moment.

“I’m going to bring you some water and some paracetamol for the morning, okay?” Niall says quietly. “I’ll leave it on the nightstand.”

“Thanks.” Harry mutters.

“Go get him, bud.” Niall tells Conan, who’s whining at Niall’s feet now because he wants to be told he can go to Harry. “You’re sleeping with him tonight.”

Conan jumps up on the bed, and Niall leaves them to get settled while he grabs the supplies to try and make Harry’s morning easier.

By the time he returns, Conan is under the duvet in a big lump with his head the only thing sticking out where he has it on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry appears to have passed out again, this time with his pants on and laying on his back. His face doesn’t so much as budge when Niall reaches out and moves the newly-shorn fringe out of his eyes, drinking in the sight for as long as he feels he’s allowed before he thumbs over Harry’s cheek and then leaves again, closing the door behind him.

He takes a deep breath before he heads back into his own room to find Ashton perched on the end of his bed in-

“Are you wearing a jockstrap?” Niall snorts.

“I told you that I came from another appointment.” Ashton answers with a shrug. “I had to shower there and head straight over just to make it to the pub on time.”

“Does that mean- Do you-” Niall stutters out, the question having difficulty forming on his tongue.

“Are you trying to ask me if I bottom?” Ashton hums, stepping off of the bed and sauntering over to Niall.

“You just seem more like a top.” Niall mumbles.

“Do you want to fuck me, Niall?” Ashton whispers in his ear, mouth hot against the blond’s neck.

“Not tonight.” Niall tells him. “I want you to fuck me again. I want you to fuck me until I forget about this whole fucking disaster of a night.”

“I can do that.” Ashton smirks, gripping onto Niall’s hips and slowly walking backwards with him towards the bed.

“Are you good with taking your shirt off again this time, or no?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah.” Niall decides after a moment. “But I don’t want the lights on.”

“Alright.” Ashton agrees, slipping his fingers under the hem of Niall’s shirt. “Can I take your clothes off?”

“Please.” Niall breathes out.

“Have I told you tonight that you’re gorgeous?” Ashton murmurs, kissing at Niall’s throat as he begins undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“Once, but I think you were just doing it to piss Harry off.” Niall mutters, curling his fingers into Ashton’s hair.

“Then let me say it again, without any possible ulterior motive.” Ashton hums, nipping at the skin under Niall’s ear. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Whatever. Get on with it.” Niall whines, slipping the fabric of his shirt off of his shoulders.

“So impatient.” Ashton chuckles, unfastening the button on Niall’s shorts. “Don’t you trust that I’m going to make you feel good, babe?”

“I trust you to be a fucking tease about it until I lose my fucking mind.” Niall grunts out, dropping his shorts to the ground.

“You like it when I make you lose your mind.” Ashton muses, bringing his thumbs up to swipe over Niall’s nipples at the same time he starts sucking a bruise into his collarbone.

And- Well- Niall can’t really deny that. There wouldn’t have been any point in trying anyways after the moan he lets out.

“Just so I know, was that for me, or the porn star sleeping in your guest room?” Ashton asks.

“You know?” Niall asks, eyes widening in surprise.

“He’s a- personal favorite of a client of mine.” Ashton explains. “Likes to fuck me with Harry’s scenes playing on the telly. I didn’t recognize him at the club, because I wasn’t paying much attention to him, but when I saw him tonight, I knew him immediately. Honestly, he seemed nicer in his videos.”

“Don’t say anything about it.” Niall sighs. “He doesn’t like people to know, and he doesn’t know that I know.”

“Don’t worry.” Ashton snorts. “His secret is safe. And yours too, if you want to watch one of his scenes while I fuck you. I can even recommend-”

“Not in a thousand years.” Niall cuts him off. “I haven’t watched his stuff, and I’m not going to. Get in the bed and turn off the fucking lamp.”

“You going to be able to do what you need to in the dark?” Ashton asks, drumming his fingers on Niall’s left thigh.

“The moon is out tonight.” Niall tells him. “And I have better night vision than most anyone.”

“Alright.” Ashton nods, pulling away from Niall and crawling into bed. He looks to Niall, waiting for a nod, and then shuts off the lamp.

Niall doesn’t even bother looking, just moving through the darkness by memory for the first few seconds while his eyes adjust. The first thing he has to do is grab what’s left of the lube and condoms out of his drawer, which he manages to find without too much trouble. The moonlight has become more than enough for him to see by once he’s sat himself on the edge of the bed, taking Bobby off and plugging it in so that it’s charged come morning.

And it still feels weird, the air between them crackling with a different kind of tension than the last time. After everything that’s happened tonight, Niall just wants a distraction. And - yeah - Ashton is his own person with his own thoughts and opinions and every right to voice them, but it feels like he’s rubbing everything in Niall’s face, and that’s not fucking fair.

He doesn’t want Harry. He just wants a fucking distraction. Some control. One moment where his life isn’t threatening to spiral out beyond his reach and send him careening back into the person he was eighteen months ago.

So he shucks off his pants and straddles over Ashton’s lap, dropping the condom on his chest and then drizzling lube over his own fingers. He works himself open quickly, efficiently, just enough to make it so that the pain isn’t overwhelming when he finally sinks down.

Ashton works him through it, planting soft kisses on his chest and shoulders and neck and jaw and cheeks, giving slow strokes to his cock to make the pleasure even things out, and it helps. It helps bring his mind down from the chaotic buzzing that’s been getting louder since Bressie told him about the job offer. It quiets the storm, and that’s enough for right now.

 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Niall asks, pouring coffee into a disposable travel mug for Ashton and handing it off. “I can make breakfast.”

“Not if you’re done with my services for today.” Ashton tells him. “It’s getting a bit late, and traffic in Kensington is always a pain in the arse in the mornings. My flatmate will be up soon, and he gets all pouty if I’m not there to make him breakfast, because he absolutely can’t do it himself.”

“Kensington?” Niall asks, eyes going wide. “That’s a bit of an expensive area.”

“I make good money.” Ashton chuckles. “Hell, you alone have paid me enough to cover most of my rent for the month. And, like I said, I have a flatmate.”

“Does- Does he do what you do?” Niall asks.

“No.” Ashton snorts, smiling down into his coffee as he mixes it. “He’s a student, actually. He’s from back home, but he came here to study at the Royal Academy of Music. I don’t technically need a flatmate, because I can afford the place on my own, but I don’t really like living alone, so I let him think the seven-hundred pounds a month he kicks in covers half of the rent, food and utilities. Barely covers the food sometimes, because he eats like the twenty year old he is, but- I don’t know. It works for us.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Niall asks, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah.” Ashton admits. Just says it like it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world. “But he needs to focus on his studies, and I don’t really think it would be fair to ask him to put up with what I do for a living.”

“Does he know?” Niall questions. “About your job, I mean?”

“Yeah.” Ashton nods. “It’s not the easiest job to hide from someone.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be.” Niall hums.

“Now, before I go- You said something last night that had me wondering about something.” Ashton says, putting the lid on his cup.

“What?” Niall asks, stiffening immediately.

“When I asked if you wanted to fuck me, you said ‘not tonight.’” Ashton explains. “Does that mean you’re interested in becoming a regular client?”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out, worried that he’d slipped and said Harry’s name again and hadn’t realized it. “I, um- I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Obviously it’s up to you-” Ashton says quietly. “But it seems to me that you could use something more regular with the stress you deal with. Especially if you’re going to keep pushing everything down like you do. I’m not here to try and tell you how to live your life. I’m just trying to give you an option on how to handle the things that seem to be overwhelming you.”

And, well, Niall did just come into some money that he doesn’t have any plans for at the moment. His house is paid off, and has been for years, because his father insisted on living modestly, despite their means. He can’t have a car because the government won’t give him back his license. Travelling isn’t an option and he’s not materialistic really, especially not enough to spend thirty-five thousand pounds.

“Can I have some time to think about it?” Niall asks.

“Of course.” Ashton nods. “Call me when you decide, and, if you want that, then we can find out a schedule that works for the both of us.”

“Alright.” Niall mumbles. “You should get going if you want to beat the traffic.”

“Probably.” Ashton agrees, and then his mobile starts ringing on the counter. “That’ll be the flatmate.”

Niall walks Ashton to the door, expecting him to just head on out, but gets taken by surprise when Ashton crowds him up against the doorframe and kisses him slowly. It’s a nice snog, nothing lustful or wanting about it. Just a nice punctuation on their night that Niall appreciates for what it is.

There’s the telltale shuffle of bare feet hitting the bottom of the stairs, and Niall stiffens, but Ashton just murmurs, “Call me,” against Niall’s lips before he disappears out the door and is answering his phone with a bright, “Hey, Lukey. No, I’m on my way.”

Harry doesn’t even acknowledge Niall on his way into the kitchen, and Niall takes the opportunity to take Conan outside and breathe for a minute before they actually talk to one another.

Conan, bless his heart, seems completely unaware of the tension hanging over the house like a tornado that’s ready to come down and wreck everything until it’s no more than ruins. He’s just gotten to spend the night with one of his favorite people, and now he’s just happy to take a shit in his doggy run before he gets to have some breakfast. His life is pretty perfect at the moment.

Oh, to be a dog.

“I didn’t expect you to be up so early.” Niall says once he gets back to the kitchen.

“You two made it a bit difficult to sleep when you shagged for a good forty minutes last night and again this morning.” Harry mutters into a cup of coffee. “You’re fucking loud.”

“I- I didn’t realize-” Niall stammers, heating up.

“Sure.” Harry scoffs. “You just always moan like that, right? That wasn’t just to rub it in my fucking face at all.”

“I thought you were asleep.” Niall sighs.

“Like you cared.” Harry says icily. “You made it pretty clear that you don’t, Niall.”

“I cared enough to make sure that you didn’t hurt yourself or anyone else!” Niall hisses.

“But not enough to warn me ahead of time that your ‘massage therapist’ was coming.” Harry spits out, glaring across the kitchen at Niall. “No, you just had to crush me, right? Had to fool me into thinking that I finally had a chance, had to lift me up, just to make it hurt all the more?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Niall croaks out.

“I’m talking about the fact that yesterday is the first time I’ve heard your voice in two weeks, Niall.” Harry says, slipping out of his seat and walking across the kitchen until he’s standing in front of Niall. “I’m talking about the fact that you called me and asked me to come meet your friends and get a drink with you. I’m talking about the fact that I’ve been patient and tried to give you the space you needed so that I wasn’t taking advantage of your vulnerability. I’m talking about the fact that I thought last night was you finally telling me you were ready to let me have a chance to make you happy.”

“I- I-” Niall stutters.

“You’re not stupid, Niall.” Harry murmurs, cupping Niall’s cheeks in his hands. “You know how I feel about you. You know.”

“I can’t, Harry.” Niall breathes out. “What you want- It’s more than I can give you. It’s more than I can give anyone.”

“Then why can you be with him?” Harry asks weakly.

“Because he doesn’t mean anything to me in the end.” Niall admits breathlessly.

“And I do?” Harry asks.

“Yes.” Niall nods. “You’re my friend, Harry. So can we please just go back to before last night? Blame it on the alcohol and move on?”

“No.” Harry tells him. “Because that would be like apologizing for being in love with you, and I can’t do that.”

“Harry-” Niall whimpers, the force of those words being said out loud feeling like a bullet to the stomach. He can't deny it anymore, can't keep labeling it as other little things, because there's no doubt or hesitation or timidity or falsity in Harry's voice when he says it. It's real now, and Niall can't force that down.

“I’m not a kid, Niall.” Harry says, echoing his statement from last night. “I’m not a schoolboy with a crush. I love you, and I can wait until you’re ready.”

“It doesn’t matter one way or the other, Harry.” Niall says quietly, putting his hands on the brunet’s chest. “Because I still can’t give you what you want or deserve.”

“This isn’t going away, Niall.” Harry says gently, pressing their foreheads together. “And I’m not letting you push me away like you do with everyone else. Please- Just give me a chance. Don’t decide for me what I deserve. Just- Just let me in.”

“I can’t.” Niall whispers again, closing his eyes because tears are starting to form in the corners from the pain welling up in his chest. “I can’t let anyone in. Not ever again. You need to go, Harry.”

“I just told you that I’m not letting you push me away anymore.” Harry murmurs.

“If you don’t go- If you can’t do that for me- Then you don’t really love me, Harry.” Niall says, taking the shortest, cruelest route to get himself free from this crushing weight on top of him. “You said you can be patient. I can’t have you here right now. I can’t deal with this on top of everything else.”

“Fine.” Harry mutters, dropping his hands away from Niall’s face and stepping back. “If- If that’s what you really want to do here.”

“It’s what I have to do, Harry.” Niall says coldly. “I can’t be what you want me to be. I’m too fucked up for anything else other than what you see in front of you.”

“I don’t want you to be anything other than who you are, Niall.” Harry whispers.

“Yes, you do!” Niall bites out, furious with Harry trying to pass this off as nothing. As if he isn’t trying to change Niall’s entire world when he’s barely getting by day to day already. “You want me to be someone who can be with you, and that’s just not going to happen! Did you ever think, for one second, that I’m just not fucking interested in you? Is it that hard to get through your head that I don’t want anything with you other than to be friends? I didn’t even want that, but you kept fucking pushing! I’m not going to let you bulldoze me into some kind of fucking relationship!”

“Don’t act like you don’t have fucking feelings for me too!” Harry growls. “The least you can do is be honest for once!”

“I am being honest, Harry!” Niall yells. “I don’t want a fucking relationship with you! I don’t want you to be in love with me!”

“No, you don’t want to face the fact that I’m in love with you.” Harry says flatly. “There’s a fucking difference. I was awake last night, Niall. When you thought I was asleep, and you stared at me and stroked my cheek- I was awake. I was awake when you tried to fuck your feelings away. I know the fucking truth.”

“You don’t know shite.” Niall spits out.

“You’re a coward.” Harry mutters.

“I get to be.” Niall tells him. “After everything that’s happened to me, I get to decide how the rest of my life goes. If that makes me a coward, so be it. You don’t get to look down on me for that. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Gladly.” Harry sneers, storming off towards the door. He wrenches it open and scoffs, “Who the fuck are you? Another one of his fuck buddies? You know what? I don’t care.”

He storms out past whoever he was talking to, and Niall’s heart starts hammering in his chest, because he doesn’t know anyone who could be on the other side of that door who Harry hasn’t already met. Someone pushes it all the way open, and the hammering stops dead as Niall takes in the face on the other side.

It fucking can’t be.

But- Harry saw him. He saw him.

“Are you real?” Niall asks breathlessly.

“Yeah.” He says with a slow nod. “I think we need to talk, Niall.”

And, well- Talking is probably the last thing that they’ll be doing once Niall launches himself forward and plants his fist in Eoghan McDermott’s stupid fucking face. It’s kind of hard to talk when you’re dead, and Niall is going to make sure that that’s the case this time.


	19. Chapter 19

_It’s been six days since they took Perrie. Six days, and Niall hasn’t seen Scar. They haven’t been chained up. They haven’t been put to work. They haven’t been beaten or burned or cut or drowned or whipped or struck or electrocuted or pissed on. In six days, the only other humans they’ve had contact with have been each other._

_They sleep in shifts now; listening, waiting. There’s no relief in not having been taken. In fact, Niall is more anxious now than he has been since the day they were taken. This silence- This waiting- It’s so much worse than what happened before. It feels like a buildup. It feels like the crescendo is coming, and there’s nothing they can do to stop that now._

_But Niall isn’t going to wait to die like that. He’s going to escape with Eoghan, or die trying. He’s got a plan, and it doesn’t involve being put down like a dog._

_So he lets Eoghan sleep, even though it’s Niall’s turn. While Eoghan sleeps, Niall works on his masterpiece. It’s nothing artful, a piece of one of the rusty cuffs that broke when someone was being forced into it. Dan, he thinks, but he can’t remember anymore._

_It was dull when he started working on it six days ago, but he’s fixed that now. He’s spent days meticulously working it against the stone. Hours and hours and hours of slow, methodical strokes so that he doesn’t stress the metal and cause it to bend. Countless minutes grinding the sides down evenly until he got this- A sharp metal shiv that is his last and best hope at getting the two of them out of here._

_If they plan on taking Niall and Eoghan out of here again, they’ll need to be fed. They’ll need water, even though their bodies have been trained over the last few months to go longer and longer without liquid. Someone will be coming to give them just enough sustenance to stay alive, and they’ll be coming soon._

_As if on cue, Niall hears footsteps coming down the tunnel. It’s just one pair of boots, so he was right. This is a feeding, not one of them being taken, and Niall readies himself to spring into action._

_Eoghan is a heavy sleeper, even with all of this that they’ve been through, and that’s the most important part of the plan. They let their guard down when the prisoners are sleeping, and Niall props himself against the wall and pretends to do the same._

_The door creaks open, and the small bit of light that’s cast by the flickering bulb outside of the door lets Niall see the guard by peeking his eye open. His stomach sinks, because this is the last one that he wanted for this._

_It’s the kid._

_He can’t be more than sixteen, a child soldier in a crazy man’s war. He’s the kindest of the guards, the one who brings them the food without mold and extra water. He’s the one whose gun looks too big for him to handle, and whose eyes tell Niall that he’d never want to use it. He’s the one who’s naïve enough to step all the way into the center of the room to put down the food._

_He’s also the only chance Niall has of getting out of this hell, so he doesn’t let the guilt make him hesitate._

_He’s quick, has been conserving his energy as much as he can for this, and it works. Niall’s makeshift blade finds its target before the kid even has a chance to react to the movement. Niall aimed straight for the throat, slicing it open to keep his prey from calling for help, and forcing blood into the young lungs to end it as quickly as possible._

_It’s not quick enough, though._

_There’s a noise so loud that it deafens Niall to his own scream when pain explodes through his body from his foot. His hand slips away from his weapon and he falls backwards while the guard falls away from him in some kind of twisted mirror image. The gun spins across the floor, hits the wall, and Niall understands. He’s been shot._

_Eoghan is at his side in a moment, and Niall can see his mouth moving, but he can’t process the noise through the ringing in his ears and the pain in his foot. Something must happen, because Eoghan is on his feet again in a second, and Niall barely has time to cover his ears once he notices Eoghan grab the gun and point it towards the open door._

_Two more blasts cut through the muffling of his hands, and then they’re being pulled away from his ears._

_“Niall, are you okay?” Eoghan asks roughly, tilting his head up._

_“He shot me - in the foot.” Niall chokes out._

_“Fuck!” Eoghan hisses. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Why didn’t you tell me you had a plan?”_

_“Because I needed him to let his guard down.” Niall explains, gulping. “You snore when you sleep. It had to sound real, or he’d have known and he wouldn’t have come far enough in.”_

_“Niall- I can’t do anything about this now.” Eoghan says softly. “I can’t- I don’t- I have to go.”_

_“Eoghan!” Niall cries._

_“I love you. I’m sorry.” Eoghan says quickly. “But I have a mission, and I can’t fail or too many people could die.”_

_“It was you.” Niall breathes out with the crushing realization._

_“And they’ll know that once this is all over.” Eoghan nods, ejecting the clip from the gun and looking at the bullets before he shoves it back in and cocks it. “I’m sorry, Niall. I’m sorry for what’s going to happen to you, and what already has. I really do love you.”_

_He leans in, presses a bruising kiss to Niall’s lips that the younger lad is too stunned to fight against. There’s another sharp pain, to his temple this time, and then the world fades to black._

_Niall is woken up by an explosion of pain to his stomach, the kind that’s so deep and hard that the world feels like it’s upending as he vomits. It’s rough and vicious, like razorblades slicing him apart from the inside out and the smell of it getting caught in his mask has him ready to vomit again until another blow lands him on his back._

_He can’t breathe, is pretty sure he heard something crack, and can barely see enough to focus on the barrel of the gun pointed in his face._

_“How are you still alive?” Scar roars._

_Niall holds up his hands, his wrists showing where he managed to saw them back and forth on the metal leg he was tied to until the rope snapped and he crawled far enough from the radio tower to avoid death by electrocution. He burrowed himself into the sand as best as he could with his weakened limbs and useless foot, and then waited out the storm until he passed out._

_And it’s not death that he has a problem with. No, he longs for it. He longs for an escape from this fucked up hell. He just doesn’t want to suffer anymore while he waits for it to finally take him._

_“Just do it.” Niall wheezes out._

_“I should.” Scar sneers, cocking the gun. “I should kill you, but that is what you want, and I do not give those who defy me what they want. If you want to die, you will work for it.”_

_He says something in Arabic, and then the two men at his side each take one of Niall’s legs and start dragging him back towards the cave. Niall doesn’t see anything else. The camp is gone, all the tents and boxes and guards have been replaced by a few trucks, and Niall’s fear rises in his throat._

_“No!” he screeches, thrashing against the men dragging him as best as he can. “You’re not taking me anywhere else!”_

_“No.” Scar growls out, planting a booted foot on Niall’s chest and pressing down. The pain is so intense that Niall can’t even scream audibly, just let out a pained gasp. “You will be put back where you’ve been. You will stay in that cell until you die naturally, in more pain than you can imagine as your body breaks down and rots with you still conscious of it. You will die with the sting of your lover’s betrayal and the pain of his loss tearing your mind apart. You will come apart completely and truly learn what it means to be broken. Then you will have earned your death.”_

_Niall wants to ask why, but he can’t. Why doesn’t matter anyways. All that matters is that the end to his suffering is being taken from him again, and that thought drags him down into a pit of despair he won’t ever have to climb out of._

 

Eoghan falls backwards when Niall’s first blow lands, and the blond follows him to the ground. He hears Bobby hit the cement of the walk, but he barely registers it. He doesn’t even care. Nothing matters in this moment except making sure that Eoghan McDermott dies by Niall’s hands for what he’s done.

Eoghan doesn’t fight back, and, for some reason, that just pisses Niall off more. He hits him as hard as he can, over and over, screaming words he can’t even hear through the blood pounding in his ears. He wraps his hands around Eoghan’s throat, squeezing and pushing down with all his strength.

And then the earth and Eoghan are ripped out from under him as he’s hauled backwards. He recognizes the body holding him, but it does nothing to stop his thrashing, to calm his fury, and he struggles against it as hard as he can to get back and finish the job.

Harry turns him around roughly, shakes him to make him fall still for a moment, and yells, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“That’s him!” Niall spits out. “He’s the one that did all of this to me! He’s the one who ruined my fucking life!”

“Niall-” Eoghan wheezes behind him, the voice making Niall’s entire body clench with rage. He turns on the older man, ready to try and kill him again, but Harry’s grip is too tight to escape. “I just want to talk. I want to explain.”

He tries to get up, but Conan is on him in an instant, fangs bared and a growl ripping out of his throat that makes the one that he directed towards Niall the night of the storm seem like a purr in comparison. Niall has never been happier to have this dog in his life than he is right now.

“Please, Niall-” Eoghan says weakly. “I just want to talk. Give me a half an hour, and then you’ll never have to see me again. I promise.”

 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Niall says flatly, refusing to let himself sit back against the couch. He won’t let himself relax while a man that has this much power over him is in his house. “They told me you died trying to escape. The fucking agents who debriefed me told me you were dead.”

“Scar probably told you that I was dead because he wanted to break you, not let you know that his entire unit failed to stop me.” Eoghan says quietly. “And I asked the agents to keep up that pretense once they were told by you that that was the case.”

“Why?” Niall asks. “Why would you let me think that if it wasn’t true? Why would you let me go through the last eighteen months alone with all of what they did to me?”

“Because I knew that you’d hate me.” Eoghan admits.

“It was you that day on the street, wasn’t it?” Niall asks him. “And at the London Eye? That was you? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

“It was me.” Eoghan nods. “I- I’ve been keeping an eye on you. I slipped up a few times, got sloppy, but I had to make sure that you were okay.”

“Do I fucking look okay?” Niall snaps.

“Niall-” Harry says gently, placing his hand on the blond’s knee. “I know you’re upset, but-”

“You’ve never experienced anything close to this level of anger!” Niall growls, turning on him. “He left me behind, Harry! He left me in the hands of the people who tortured me for months! And they did it all because of him!”

“I had a mission, Niall.” Eoghan says quietly. “It was you, or hundreds - maybe even thousands - of people. I had to make a decision, and you couldn’t move. I’d have taken you with me if I thought that there was any hope of escaping that way, but there wasn’t.”

“You could have killed me!” Niall hisses. “You left me alive in the hopes that they would torture me to get information and buy you time!”

“I- That’s not why I didn’t kill you, Niall.” Eoghan mumbles.

“Then why the fuck would you leave me there alive?” Niall asks angrily. “With the way that they were, the way that Scar was, why would you leave me alive and in their hands?”

“Because I couldn’t kill you.” Eoghan breathes out. “I couldn’t be the one to do that. I love you, Niall.”

“No!” Niall roars, trying to launch himself off of the couch and gain enough momentum to send himself at Eoghan again. Harry’s hand keeps him firmly planted on the couch though, held tight against his chest. “You don’t get to fucking say that to me! Not when you left me! Not when you were the entire reason that we were even there! Not when you’re the reason that they all died and I’m not even a fucking person anymore!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Niall.” Eoghan says, running his hands through his hair. “I had a mission.”

“And was it worth it?” Niall asks venomously. “Was it worth Sandy and Josh and Dan and Jon and Leigh-Anne and Jade and Jesy and Perrie’s lives? Was it worth my da’s life? Was it worth everything that all of us suffered? Was it fucking worth leaving me a wreck of a person who can’t trust my own fucking mind or let anyone in because I’m too scared that they’re just going to be like you all over again? Tell me it was, because I want to fucking hear you say it!”

“Yes.” Eoghan answers without hesitation. “It was worth it.”

“Why?” Niall asks him, feeling as if he’s been kicked in the chest.

“Because my mission was a success.” Eoghan tells him. “Scar’s real name was Yusef Al Jawani. He was the head of the Syrian Independence Front, which was a mask for a branch of ISIS. I was sent, along with two of the other volunteers, to track weapons shipments in the area using LiveWell as a cover for our presence in the village that we were supposed to be going to. But JJ’s cover was blown in Damascus, and they took us by surprise.”

“I don’t recognize that name.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“You knew him as Chris, and the other agent was Katarina, but her real name is Lottie.” Eoghan explains.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Niall asks. “Why are you even here, Eoghan? What’s changed after the last eighteen months that you suddenly decided to show up and do this?”

“We caught him.” Eoghan says softly. “Al Jawani – Scar – We caught him.”

Niall’s hand shoots out for something - anything - to grab onto, and his fingers tangle with Harry’s.

“He’s dead?” Niall asks weakly.

“Not quite.” Eoghan sighs. “That’s why I came.”

“If you want me to testify at a trial, I’ll kill him before anyone in a courtroom can stop me.” Niall breathes out.

“He’s not going on trial.” Eoghan tells him quietly. “He turned and gave us his entire network, and a number of ones here in the UK, and in Europe and the US. We’ve shut down a huge number of terrorist cells all over the western world with his information in exchange for a new identity for him.”

“You’re letting him go?” Niall asks breathlessly, his head spinning.

“They were going to.” Eoghan grimaces, nodding. “But- When he was being marched out, he- He fucking smirked at me like he had won. And he had. He had put us - put you - through all of that and he was walking away with a million pounds and a new identity. So I grabbed him by the neck and I snapped it.”

“Jesus.” Harry breathes out next to Niall.

“He’s not dead, but he’s paralyzed from the base of his skull down.” Eoghan explains. “He’ll never move or talk or even breathe on his own again. He’s trapped in his own body.”

“Good!” Niall spits out, making Harry flinch. “Death is too good for him!”

“I agree.” Eoghan nods. “But my superiors don’t. They can’t fire me after everything that happened, but they’re shipping me off to become station chief of a city in South America. My career is dead on its feet. I- I won’t be able to do anything else to take care of you, Niall.”

“You’ve never taken care of me!” Niall growls. “You took advantage of me!”

“I got you into the trial for your leg.” Eoghan admits. “And I’m the one who got the government to return the house to you when they’d claimed it because your da had no will. I- I know that you don’t believe me, Niall, but I’ve been doing everything that I could to help you from a distance. I’ve used every favor and bit of pull that I have to do what I could. I would have come to you sooner, but I had to make sure this was over before I did. I wanted to do something real for you, so I’ve worked the last eighteen months to bring down Al Jawani and his network. I had to be sure it was over and done.”

“This is never going to be over, Eoghan!” Niall yells. “I’m never going to be okay again! Don’t you fucking get that? You got him? Good! That doesn’t fix anything! It doesn’t take away the fucking nightmares! It doesn’t make my brain suddenly okay! It doesn’t regrow my fucking leg! It doesn’t bring back the people who died!”

“Niall-” Harry says softly.

“I can’t even die because of you!” Niall continues, ignoring Harry’s protest. “I fucking wish for it every day! I wake up and hope each morning that it’ll be the day I die! I just want it all to stop, but I can’t do it! I don’t get to fucking kill myself, because then there’s nobody left to carry their suffering except you, and that’s an even worse insult than every indignity and bit of pain that we all underwent because of you! It’s never going to be over until we die, and we don’t get to fucking die!”

He can’t even see through the tears in his eyes, can’t stop the shaking of his body or the way he’s crushing Harry’s hand. His world is spinning out of control, and he doesn’t know which way is up.

“I’m sorry.” Eoghan chokes out, but Niall can’t even see if he has the decency to look ashamed.

“I’m glad that you didn’t kill me that day.” Niall says through gritted teeth. “Because they deserved better than for you to be the one to carry their memories. So go. Go to wherever the fuck they’re sending you, and don’t ever come back. Keep yourself sane with the thought that this was all worth it. I really fucking hope it was.”

“I really did love you, Niall.” Eoghan says gently. “I need you to know that.”

“We didn’t love each other, Eoghan.” Niall says, shaking his head. “We just needed to believe that so that we could get through it all. It was a coping mechanism. Nothing more. It was as real as the fucking cottage.”

“Niall-” Eoghan says weakly.

“I just- I need to know one thing.” Niall mutters, wiping at his eyes. “Is Eoghan even your real name?”

“Yes.” Eoghan admits with a nod. “Everything I told you up to our capture was true. You caught me off guard when we met, and I told you my real name before I could stop myself. So I covered and said that the reason that people called me Ed was my name being Eoghan Mac Diarmada in Gaelige. I really was a dancer when I was younger, before I was recruited, and I really did care about you, Niall.”

“No, you didn’t.” Niall breathes out. “You just saw some dumb kid with wide eyes, dreaming of making the world a better place, and wanted to fall into that. You didn’t care if it broke me. You didn’t care that I was ready to change my life for you after only two days, because you pulled me in like it was fucking gravity.

“I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because of you, Eoghan. I had to change my hair so that I didn’t look like myself anymore. I live in a house that’s too big and too painful because of the guilt I feel about being willing to abandon my da over you, and knowing that the last conversation I ever had with him, I lied to him. I live my life in a constant state of fear and anger because you took advantage of me. I wasn’t even supposed to be there. I would have been safe if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t have the blood of a fucking child on my hands. So don’t you dare say that you cared about me, because all you’ve ever done is hurt me and lie to me.”

“Okay.” Eoghan whispers.

“I killed someone for you.” Niall chokes out. “The only reason I survived everything was because I thought we would escape and be together outside of that cell. I thought that it was worth it to take the life of a teenager, to stain my fucking soul beyond redemption, because I fooled myself into thinking that I loved you. And you didn’t even care enough to tell me the truth. You didn’t care enough to let me know that I was suffering because of you.

“And, I know, it was because of the fucking mission. I know you saved lives, Eoghan. You ruined me, though. You took my life the second you let me fall for you, knowing who you were and what the truth was, and I can never get it back. So I need you to fucking remember that. When you leave, when you live the rest of your life, I need you to remember that mine is broken beyond repair, and it’s all because of you.”

“I know.” Eoghan nods. “I know that, Niall, and I’m never going to forgive myself for it. I’m never going to forgive myself for any of what happened.”

“I need you to go, and never come back here.” Niall mutters.

“Goodbye, Niall.” Eoghan says quietly, lifting himself up out of the chair and walking away.

Niall doesn’t even realize that he’s holding his breath until he hears the door close and a sob wells up and out of his throat. Harry’s arms are around him in an instant, and Niall doesn’t even have the strength to fight it.

He burrows into Harry’s chest, fingers clenched tight in the fabric of the brunet’s shirt, and cries until he can’t do anything except sleep with the slow rhythm of Harry’s heart lulling him into oblivion.


	20. Chapter 20

_“Who the fuck are you?” Niall sneers at the brunet who’s taken a seat in front of his bed._

_“My name is Doctor Louis Tomlinson.” the bloke answers, taking Niall’s chart off of the end of the bed and flipping through it._

_“Fascinating. My name is Doctor Get-the-fuck-out-of-my-room.” Niall huffs._

_“According to your chart, it’s Niall Horan.” Louis hums. “We should probably get someone to fix that, doctor.”_

_That- Was not what Niall was expecting. Even less than that is the sputtering laugh it pulls out of him before he can manage to put his face back to its usual scowling expression._

_“What are you doing here?” Niall asks. “You aren’t one of the doctors here.”_

_“Doctor Whitmore is a colleague of mine.” Louis tells him. Of course that woman would go running to tell someone that Niall was a loon. Doesn’t matter that she’s a bumbling incompetent who can barely spell her own name right. No, it all boils down to Niall being untreatable, which he fucking told her he was from the start. “She’s asked me to take over your care from now on.”_

_“Don’t know if you noticed, doc, but I’ve got a bit more to worry about than fucking therapy at the moment.” Niall says icily, folding back his blanket to show where they cut his fucking leg off a week ago._

_“I disagree.” Louis says, settling back in the chair. “I think that your therapy is possibly the most important thing at the moment.”_

_“Who the fuck are you to disagree?” Niall asks angrily. “I just lost my fucking leg!”_

_“And, from what I can tell based on Doctor Whitmore’s discussion with me, and your chart, you’re about all the way to losing your mind, too.” Louis says with a shrug. “You can’t get your leg back, Niall, but you don’t have to lose your mind.”_

_“What exactly did she tell you about me?” Niall questions._

_“That you’ve been through an incredible amount of trauma, refuse to trust anyone, and have post-traumatic-stress episodes that have caused bodily harm to yourself and others.” Louis admits. “I asked her to stay as vague as possible, for your sake.”_

_“Why?” Niall scoffs. “Not as if I have any fucking dignity left.”_

_“Because it isn’t her story to tell.” Louis answers. “It’s yours, so you alone should decide who gets to know it and when.”_

_“So you’re trying to take a case that you know nearly nothing about as what- A favor?” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Or are you doing it out of pity? Or maybe scholarly interest?”_

_“Compassion.” Louis answers. “You’re a person who’s suffered, Niall. I help people who’ve suffered. That’s what I do. I specialize in patients who’ve dealt with particularly traumatic events.”_

_“Compassion isn’t going to get you shite in this world, Doctor Tomlinson.” Niall mutters, fisting his hands in his blanket. “It just makes you weak.”_

_“Then I guess I’m okay with being weak.” Louis tells him. “I’d rather care and suffer for it than not care at all.”_

_“What the fuck would a pretty-boy, rich doctor know about suffering?” Niall grits out._

_“I wasn’t always well-off.” Louis says quietly. “I grew up poor. My mum had to work three jobs just to support me and my siblings. I wasn’t particularly good in school, and I wasn’t well behaved, but I was great at one thing. I was fucking brilliant on the pitch._

_“I got an athletic scholarship to the University of Birmingham, and I took it. I was on track to get taken by several professional clubs, but I was holding out to get an offer from the Doncaster Rovers, because I really wanted to be a hometown hero. I wanted to be close to my family and take care of them._

_“Then, one night, I let myself get out of control. I was popular and well-liked and getting all the attention that I never got back home. I got completely pissed, smoked a bit too much weed, and slipped off of a roof while pulling a prank. I shattered my leg in four places, and watched all of my dreams slip out through my fingers. I watched the future that I’d planned for myself and my family, my chance to be something, disappear in a puff of smoke and a few cups of beer too many._

_“It’s not like what you went through. I know that. It’s not something that I dealt with well though. I let myself fall into a hole that I just kept digging deeper and deeper. I wrecked my relationship with my family, the relationship I had with a bloke I was seeing, and almost got myself kicked out of school. I was willing to ruin my life all over again because of my mistake, and it took a long time to get myself right.”_

_“So you think that you being a fucking idiot compares to what happened to me?” Niall asks harshly._

_“I think there are a lot of different kinds of suffering, Niall.” Louis says quietly. “And I think that none of them compare to each other. It isn’t a competition. It isn’t a game of ‘whose life is worse?’”_

_“Then what was the point of telling me all of that?” Niall sighs, rubbing at his temple._

_“The point is that you’re making yourself suffer still, despite the fact that you’re on the other side of whatever it is that happened to you.” Louis says gently. “I want to help you with that.”_

_“Take your best crack, doc.” Niall scoffs. “I give you a month on the outside before you run screaming for the hills.”_

 

Niall wakes up alone, curled up on the couch with a blanket tossed over him. His whole body aches, feels like he’s been bound in this position for days, and it takes a second to process that there’s no familiar, canine warmth next to him. All that’s there is the back of the couch.

And then it hits him in the stomach like a cannonball. Eoghan is alive. Eoghan was here, and now he’s gone and he’ll never come back. Scar- Al Jawani- is alive, but he’s just shy of being a vegetable. And Harry- Harry saw the chink in Niall’s armor. He saw Niall’s greatest weakness. He saw the face behind Niall’s brokenness, and things will never be the same, because he knows the whole truth now.

He knows that Niall is a monster who’s beyond repair or redemption.

But, apparently that didn’t scare him off, because Niall hears a telltale clamor from the kitchen that can only be Harry. Fucking Elvis music and a yelp, followed by something crashing.

Niall wraps himself up in the blanket and tries to stand up before he realizes that he doesn’t have his leg on. That’s right. Bobby hasn’t worked since it hit the ground when Niall tackled Eoghan. Niall’s wheelchair is in the entryway, where it’s been since he got back from the facility, so he sighs and carefully lifts himself up, using the furniture for support until he manages to hop to the doorway. After that he follows the wall, and finally gets into the damned thing.

Harry is nursing the side of his hand in his mouth when Niall gets into the kitchen, and startles when the blond says, “You stayed.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ fuck!” Harry gasps, clutching at his chest and whirling around. “Don’t do that!”

“Why are you still here, Harry?” Niall asks, forcing his voice to stay neutral.

“How was I supposed to leave after that?” Harry asks back. “Was I supposed to just leave you alone after your ex- whatever the fuck- comes back from the dead?”

“After this morning-” Niall mumbles, trailing off.

“This morning isn’t important right now.” Harry says firmly. “What matters is helping you deal with this, because this isn’t the kind of thing you can handle by yourself, Niall.”

“This doesn’t change anything, Harry.” Niall sighs, looking down at his legs. “What I said this morning- It still stands.”

“I know.” Harry says softly. “I think I get it now. I think I understand why you’re so- So-”

“Fucked up?” Niall offers bitterly.

“Insistent on being alone.” Harry corrects. “I think I get why you refuse to let anyone in.”

“You don’t have to stay, Harry.” Niall tells him.

“Do you want me to leave?” Harry asks.

“No.” Niall admits so quietly that he barely hears it himself.

“Then I’m not going anywhere.” Harry says with a nod. “I’m making eggplant parmesan for supper, so go wash up.”

“Supper?” Niall questions.

“You’ve been out for a while.” Harry says, turning back to whatever he was doing at the stove before Niall came in. “It’s only about six, though, so supper will be pretty early. You should also drink some water, because you probably dehydrated yourself a bit. And I stole one of your shirts. Sorry about that, but there was mucus on the other one.”

“Sorry.” Niall says with a wince.

“Not a problem.” Harry says, giving Niall a soft smile. “Besides, I kind of like wearing your clothes.”

And- Niall really doesn’t have the capacity to respond to that comment at the moment, so he just turns his wheelchair around and heads to the downstairs bathroom to clean his hands and fix his face.

 

“Can you at least tell me if you’re going to disappear?” Harry groans, stepping out into the garden. “You scared the fuck out of me. Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“I knew you’d find me eventually.” Niall says with a shrug, taking a pull off of his beer. “Not exactly like I can run away.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to drink with your meds.” Harry sighs, sitting down on the lounger next to Niall’s wheelchair. Niall decides it’s probably best not to mention that Ashton fucked him on that one about a fortnight ago. “Now you’ve been doing it two days in a row.”

“Just try to tell me that I don’t deserve a drink after today.” Niall says flatly, shooting Harry a look. “Tell me anything in the world that deserves a drink more than what happened in my house today.”

“Okay- Fair.” Harry nods.

“Besides, it’s not a problem anymore.” Niall mutters.

“Why?” Harry asks.

“Because this morning’s doses were the last ones on my prescriptions.” Niall admits.

“Jesus, Niall.” Harry breathes out.

“And I’m not going back on them.” Niall tells him.

“Why the fuck not?” Harry hisses.

“Because my dosages and prescriptions were all switched around because Louis thought that I was hallucinating.” Niall huffs. “Only, I wasn’t. Eoghan was alive. He was there. I wasn’t fucking crazy.”

“You most certainly are crazy if you think it’s a good bloody idea going off your meds.” Harry says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Niall-”

“You don’t get a say in this, Harry.” Niall cuts him off. “It’s my body, and my life.”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Niall.” Harry says gently. “I just- With everything going on, is it really the best time? With Eoghan and Louis and Liam and-”

“You?” Niall cuts in.

“And your job and everything else.” Harry finishes with an unimpressed look. “Your life is hitting a particularly rough patch emotionally right now. Is it really the best time to throw off your body chemistry too?”

“By the time I find someone to write me a new prescription, it would be too late anyways.” Niall sighs. “And I’m not looking for a new therapist right now.”

“Why not?” Harry asks.

“Because Louis was the only one who ever actually worked for me, but that bridge is nothing more than ashes.” Niall admits. “And I’m not looking to rebuild it. Especially after today. He made me feel like I was crazy when I wasn’t.”

“He was doing what he could with what information he had.” Harry points out.

“He made me feel like I couldn’t trust myself, Harry.” Niall whispers. “He took what I saw and dismissed me because it didn’t make sense. He wasn’t even willing to believe for a second that I might not be crazy. He just sees me the way the rest of the world does- As a fucking madman.”

“I don’t see you that way.” Harry says softly.

“No- You see me as something worse.” Niall mutters. “You see me as something that I can never, ever be.”

“And what do you think that is?” Harry asks.

“Redeemed.” Niall breathes out.

“Niall-” Harry starts.

“I killed a kid, Harry.” Niall chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut. “A fucking kid. He was no more than fucking fifteen or sixteen, and I killed him. I planned it out. I sharpened a piece of metal, and I stabbed him in the throat to make sure he couldn’t call for help, and I did it without hesitation. I killed someone. Do you understand that? For the rest of my life, that kid’s blood is on my hands.”

“It was self-defense.” Harry argues.

“It was premeditated.” Niall counters. “I spent days getting ready to kill the first person who came through that door, and I did it for- For him. I did it for the man who left me behind and was the entire reason any of it ever happened to me in the first place. I killed a child, and there was no fucking reason for it in the end. It didn’t save me.”

“It saved Eoghan.” Harry murmurs, putting his hand on Niall’s shoulder. “And he saved who knows how many lives because of it. He saved you, Niall.”

“He left me!” Niall snaps.

“How do you think the people who got you out found you, Niall?” Harry asks. “How do you think they finally found where you were being held in time to get you out? Chance? Luck? It was him, and you have to know that. He told them where to find you.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that he left me.” Niall mutters, wiping furiously at his cheeks to erase the evidence of the tears he refuses to let himself cry over Eoghan McDermott ever again. “Or that he doesn’t regret it. He left me there to rot, and he doesn’t regret it.”

“You don’t know that.” Harry tells him. “He said that it was worth it, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t regret it. It doesn’t mean it isn’t something that he tortures himself with every day. I think it’s quite clear that he does, actually. He has to cope with what he did for his mission, and if that means telling himself that it was worth it, then that’s what he has to do. You shouldn’t hate him for that.”

“Why the fuck not?” Niall asks harshly.

“Because- What does it help, Niall?” Harry asks, cupping Niall’s cheek and turning his face until their eyes meet. “Does it make you feel better to hate him?”

“No.” Niall admits.

“You don’t have to forgive him.” Harry says gently, thumbing over Niall’s cheek. “But you should stop hating him. It’s just that much more negative emotion that you don’t need building up inside of you. You’ve suffered more than enough. Don’t bring more on yourself.”

“How could he just leave me?” Niall asks weakly.

“I don’t know.” Harry murmurs. “That’s not a question I have the answer to. But I have a lot of experience with hating people, and I can tell you that it’s not worth it in the end. It feels so much better to just let go of that pain and anger.”

“I don’t know what’ll be left if I do that.” Niall whispers.

“Then let’s find out together, okay?” Harry offers.

Niall can’t find it in himself to say no.

 

“Okay, so I’ve got through Sunday off, and they’ll give me more time if I need it.” Harry hums, setting Niall’s plate down in front of him.

“Jaysus.” Niall sighs. “Harry, you don’t need to do that.”

“I absolutely do need to do that.” Harry counters, sitting down next to Niall with his own plate. “If you’re going to insist on coming off of your meds, then someone needs to be around to watch how you’re doing.”

“There’s other people I can call to do that.” Niall grumbles, spinning his fork through his pasta.

“I’m right here, and I’ve already taken the time off.” Harry says, stiffening up a bit. “There’s no point in bringing anyone else in anymore, is there?”

“Your job is important, Harry.” Niall mutters. “What you do matters. You shouldn’t be taking time off to-”

“To make sure that someone I love is okay?” Harry cuts him off. “Because that doesn’t matter, right? It’s totally unimportant?”

“I-” Niall starts, only to lose his chance again.

“Or is this just that you’re worried that I’m taking this the wrong way?” Harry asks. “That I’m playing house with you in the hopes that it’ll change everything? Give me some credit, Niall. I’m putting what you need ahead of what I want. This is about making sure that you’re okay, not me being in love with you. I’d do this and a lot more for anyone I care about, and you’re the only one that I’m in love with.”

“Christ- Can you stop saying it like that?” Niall asks weakly.

“Like what?” Harry questions.

“Like it’s so fucking easy.” Niall mutters.

“It is that easy for me.” Harry says with a shrug. “It really is, Niall.”

“Well, it’s not for me.” Niall says, stabbing his fork into his eggplant. “Every fucking time you say it is like a twist of the fucking knife, Harry. It’s another punctuation mark on the fucked up-ness of my life.”

“I’m not going to lie about how I feel, Niall.” Harry says firmly.

“I’m not asking you to.” Niall sighs, looking over at the brunet. “I’m not stupid enough to think there would be any point in that. I’m asking you to stop saying it like it isn’t making things harder every time you do. I’m asking you to stop saying it so casually, like it doesn’t ki-”

He swallows thickly, the words getting caught in his throat, because the only thing worse than letting Harry have this kind of power over him is letting Harry know that he has it.

“Just- Please stop saying it like it doesn’t hurt, okay?” Niall begs quietly.

Harry is quiet for a minute, eyes dropping down to where he’s twirling his fork for something to do. He doesn’t say anything in the end, just gives a short, pained nod that has Niall letting out a breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding in.

 

Niall wakes up with his arms wrapped around something warm and burrows into it, seeking relief from the throbbing in his head and the ache in his muscles. The body doesn’t feel right, though. There’s a significant lack of hair covering this body that is very present on the one Niall is used to waking up cuddling, and it makes him freeze.

“Relax.” says a slow, familiar voice, accompanied by the stroke of a hand down Niall’s back.

“Please tell me we did not fall asleep on this bloody couch together again.” Niall grunts out.

“Afraid so.” Harry chuckles.

“Then why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Niall asks. “You were definitely still wearing one the last I remember.”

“Because you are very clingy in your sleep, and you shoved your entire arm inside of my arm-hole at one point and it seemed like it would be easier to just take it off.” Harry snorts. “If you want to touch me, all you have to do is ask.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harry.” Niall huffs.

“You’re so grumpy after you wake up.” Harry hums, skating his fingers down Niall’s side. “It’s cute.”

“You’re so fucking obnoxious.” Niall groans, shifting to stretch.

“No- Wait-” Harry stammers, but he cuts himself off with a low moan when Niall’s thigh accidentally presses against his morning wood.

And- Fuck- The sound of it travels straight down Niall’s spine and makes him swell up in his joggers. It makes the fingers Niall has on Harry’s back dig into the soft flesh and hard muscle. It makes Niall’s breath catch in his throat and his mind go fuzzy.

“Sorry.” Harry whimpers, his fingers digging into Niall’s hip. “It’s not- Not about you. It’s just- It’s morning.”

“Jesus Christ.” Niall mutters, lifting himself up with his arms before he can do anything he regrets. “What the fuck, Harry?”

“I’m not the only one!” Harry hisses, pointing to the front of Niall’s joggers. “It’s a fucking natural occurrence, Niall. I told you, it’s not about you.”

“It’s hard not to feel like it’s about me.” Niall grumbles, crawling down Harry’s body until he can sit on the other end of the couch. “Why are you even sleeping down here, Harry? If you’re insisting on staying, then you should at least sleep in a bed.”

“Do you want to hear the answer to that?” Harry asks, swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. “Because I don’t think that you do, but if you want me to tell you that I liked having you fall asleep on my chest, or that I loved the feeling of holding you, then I will. I could probably go on for fucking hours about it, or you can just stop asking stupid questions with obvious answers, or blaming me for a bodily function, just because you’re panicked over waking up with me. I didn’t make a move on you or molest you in your fucking sleep, Niall. Quit treating me like I’m a bad person just because it makes you uncomfortable that I have these feelings for you.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” Niall sighs.

“Well it’s exactly what you are doing, Niall.” Harry says quietly, pushing himself off of the couch. “You’re being a real fucking prick, and I get it, but maybe you could give me more than thirty seconds to wake up before you turn the dial up to ten.”

He walks out of the room after that, leaving Niall to flounder by himself to find exactly how this morning got so bad, so quickly. It’s pretty obvious though, if Niall lets himself be honest. It’s because he didn’t hate waking up in Harry’s arms, didn’t hate Harry’s reaction to his touch, and that’s fucking terrifying.

 

“How did this happen?” Liam sighs, laying Bobby out on the table.

“I fell.” Niall mumbles.

Harry scoffs from where he’s slipping his feet into his boots, but doesn’t say anything, and Niall takes it as a win. Harry, true to form today, disagrees about Niall refusing to tell Liam about the entire story of how Bobby was damaged. But Liam would tell Louis in a second if he knew that Eoghan was back from the dead, and there would be no getting rid of Louis then. Niall doesn’t actually relish the idea of having Louis removed from his property by police, or getting a restraining order against him.

“You fell.” Liam says slowly, looking up at Niall with a neutral expression that he must have learned from being around Louis so much. It’s relatively essential, in Niall’s experience. “Right.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Harry mutters, finally leaving Niall alone for the first time in almost forty-eight hours. He’s pissed off, and has no qualms about letting Niall know that he’s pissed off, but he’s still watching him like a hawk and hovering around constantly.

But now- Apparently his car has been towed from the pub, and he’s got to go get it out of the impound lot. That gives Niall an hour or two to relax without Harry being all he can see and hear. If Liam hurries the fuck up, Niall might actually get to spend some time by himself before Harry is back to taking up all of his space.

“So what really happened?” Liam asks once the door closes.

“I fell.” Niall repeats.

“Niall, it would take a very hard fall with a lot of momentum to make this prosthesis stop working.” Liam says quietly. “Is- Did Harry do this? Is he-”

“Hurting me?” Niall asks incredulously. “Christ- No! I just went down really hard on the concrete step outside the house yesterday, and Bobby hasn’t worked since.”

“Except you don’t have any scrapes on the insides of your hands or forearms.” Liam sighs. “What you do have are bandages over your knuckles, like you were in a fight.”

“Why do you need to know what happened?” Niall asks harshly. “It doesn’t affect how you fix Bobby.”

“I want to know that you’re safe, Niall.” Liam mutters, opening up the casing on Bobby. “You may have stopped caring, but that doesn’t mean that I have. You’ve been in a fight, you’ve damaged your prosthesis, you’re dating Harry- It’s a lot of change really fast.”

“I’m not dating Harry!” Niall hisses.

“He’s wearing the shirt that I got you for Christmas last year.” Liam points out. “And a pair of joggers that I’m pretty sure belong to you, seeing as they come up above his ankles.”

“He’s staying with me for a while.” Niall huffs. “I just- Some shite has happened, and he’s insisting on sticking around to make sure that I don’t, like- Go off the rails or something. I don’t know. I can’t get rid of him. If his bloody car hadn’t gotten towed, he’d still be right here, annoying the shite out of me. I’m thinking about having the locks changed before he can get back.”

“He doesn’t seem like the type to let that stop him.” Liam says with a shrug, looking over the damage that Niall has done.

“I know. Why do you think I’m not ringing anyone up?” Niall grumbles.

“This actually isn’t that bad.” Liam tells him. “You knocked a few things loose, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed pretty easily. I can have it done in a few hours, and then I’ll bring it back.”

“Why can’t you just do it here?” Niall asks. “You’ve got the tools.”

“It’ll invalidate the trial data if I do it anywhere other than a controlled area like my lab, Niall.” Liam sighs, opening up the case he’ll pack Bobby into to carry. “You know that. I’ll leave the forms here with you, and I’ll collect them when I drop the leg back off.”

“I hate the forms.” Niall whines, pulling Conan up into his lap. He’s more than a bit big for this, but it lets Niall cuddle him easier. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.” Liam says flatly. “You don’t get special privileges with me anymore, Niall. I drove out here because you said it was an emergency, but clearly you and I have very different definitions of ‘emergency’, because this happened yesterday.”

“This was literally the least of my problems yesterday, Liam.” Niall says quietly, tightening his grip around Conan.

“You said that you wouldn’t hesitate to call me.” Liam mutters.

“I didn’t hesitate.” Niall defends himself. “I just- I had a lot more to deal with than Bobby.”

“Clearly.” Liam scoffs. “Because having your leg just stop working is always a very low priority.”

“You don’t know anything about it!” Niall growls.

“Because you won’t tell me.” Liam counters. “But that’s irrelevant now. This form- this one right here- is an incident report. You need to describe what happened in as much detail as possible, and if I, or the company running the trial, find out that you’ve lied on it, then you’ll be released from the trial and Bobby will be repossessed.”

“You’d really do that to me?” Niall asks weakly.

“You’re the one that wanted to keep the relationship strictly professional, Niall.” Liam says flatly. “Welcome to strictly professional. You lying about what happened would corrupt the data and could possibly affect the thousands of people that this technology could help. I have to put them ahead of you, and the fact that you could even think to ask me to doctor results after cutting me out- That’s fucking laughable.”

“Liam-” Niall starts.

“You are asking me to forget my personal and professional integrity, Niall.” Liam says icily. “And you’re not even doing it as a friend. Don’t take the fact that I still care about you to mean that you can fucking manipulate me into doing whatever you want. You’ve made your bed, Niall. It’s time to lie in it. Have these filled out by the time I get back, because I really don’t want to wait on them. I’ve got a date with my boyfriend tonight.”

He smacks the top of the case down after that, locking it and then walking out of the kitchen without another word, without giving Niall a chance to explain himself, and - really - Niall doesn’t deserve any better.


	21. Chapter 21

_“The prosthetist will be right with you.” the nurse says, shutting the door behind herself when she leaves._

_Niall just scowls after her and goes back to impatiently tapping his fingers against the arm of his wheelchair. His mobile is dead, the product of an annoyingly long wait for this Doctor Payne bloke. If someone were to ask Niall, he’d say that Doctor Payne should have changed his name before going into this profession. It’s not exactly the message he should want to send to people._

_“Sorry.” a man says, storming into the room with a load of papers and books in his arms. He’s younger than Niall thought he would be, maybe a couple years older than Niall. Definitely still under thirty, and definitely more attractive than the old, white haired man that Niall had been picturing. “So sorry. Our money manager picked exactly the wrong day to come in and talk to us about diversifying investments in our pension schemes. Of course, I should have known better than to schedule him on a new patient intake day. My fault, really.”_

_“Whatever.” Niall grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “At least I managed to get in. I’ve heard it’s pretty difficult to get an appointment with you.”_

_“I have a pretty full patient roster.” Payne nods, trying to organize the chaos that he’s just dumped on the desk. “But, once the bulk of the work is finished, patients don’t need to see me as often, and new spots open up. Now, let’s see- Which one are you? Not Miss Cutler, obviously. Mister Kissinger? No, he needs an arm, and you’ve got the proper amount.”_

_“Horan.” Niall sighs. “I’m Niall Horan, Doctor Payne.”_

_“Oh gosh, I’m not a doctor.” Payne snorts out. “I only have a master’s degree. And, please, call me Liam.”_

_“Am I supposed to be seeing a doctor?” Niall questions._

_“No.” Liam tells him. “Most any prosthetist you could meet only has a master’s degree. I assure you, despite the lack of a doctorate, I am very good at my job. If you’ll just give me a moment to reacquaint myself with your case- Oh! I remember you! You’re the lad that refused a prosthesis after your amputation.”_

_“That’s me.” Niall mutters, looking down at his fists._

_“Why now?” Liam asks, taking a seat in front of Niall. “It’s been four months.”_

_“Because- Because I don’t want to be in this chair forever, anymore.” Niall mumbles. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to bother dealing with anything extra when my head is so much more of a mess than my leg. But I- I hate looking down and seeing a piece of myself missing. If I get the foot, then I could at least pretend it’s still there. And my therapist says it could help with my phantom-limb pain.”_

_“In many cases, a prosthesis has been known to ease phantom-limb pain.” Liam nods. “It’s a mental trick that makes your body think it’s there, so it doesn’t feel like it’s missing something anymore. That helps ease the pain. It would also improve your quality of life.”_

_“Would people be able to tell?” Niall asks nervously. “Like- Will it make me walk funny or anything?”_

_“There can be some difficulty adjusting at first.” Liam admits. “But that does go away very quickly for most patients.”_

_“So people will be able to tell I’m not normal.” Niall sighs._

_“Being an amputee doesn’t mean that you aren’t normal, Niall.” Liam says gently._

_“What would you know?” Niall scoffs. “You’re built like a god, and it’s your job to work with disfigured freaks like me.”_

_“My job is to help people feel complete again.” Liam says firmly. “It’s to help people find ways to make their lives easier, and take back autonomy in their lives. The people I work with aren’t freaks. They’ve just lost a part of themselves, like you. That doesn’t change who they are on the inside, and that’s all that really matters.”_

_“And what if there’s nothing on the inside?” Niall asks. “Or, at least, nothing good?”_

_“I don’t believe that’s possible.” Liam says with a shrug. “Everybody has good in them. It’s just a matter of finding it. Now, why don’t you pull up your trousers, and we can get started?”_

 

“Are you just going to pout all day?” Niall sighs, looking over at Harry for the tenth time in half as many minutes.

“I’m not pouting.” Harry mutters, keeping his eyes locked on his mobile.

“Well, you’re not talking to me or looking at me or even paying any attention to the film I’ve put on for you.” Niall huffs. “D’ya think I’m watching this documentary because I want to?”

“I have no idea what you want, Niall.” Harry says flatly, flicking his thumb as if to scroll, although Niall is pretty sure that he’s not actually doing anything. He doesn’t look like he’s focusing on anything, or like he even could at the moment. “And, honestly, I’m not sure that you do either.”

“Why are you even still here, Harry?” Niall asks. “If being around me is pissing you off so badly, why stay?”

“Because.” Harry says quietly. “You may be acting like a dick, but I- I still love you, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Harry-” Niall groans.

“Do you know what part stuck out to me yesterday?” Harry asks, cutting him off. “Do you know what’s been playing in my mind on repeat, over and over again since it happened?”

“I don’t-” Niall tries again, but Harry’s sharp inhale and hands flying up to his eyes to rub at them makes his response die in his throat.

“It’s not the part you’re thinking.” Harry says weakly. “It’s not where you told me about the kid. And it’s not where you literally tried to kill a man right in front of me. It’s not even the part where you said that you can’t let anyone in because you’re afraid that we’re going to do something to you like what Eoghan did, which was so clearly aimed at me that you might as well have drawn a bullseye on my forehead first.

“It’s the part where you said that you wake up every day hoping that it’s your last. It’s when you said that you think about killing yourself every single day. It’s the part where you said that the only reason you don’t commit fucking suicide is because you feel obligated to carry on their memories.

“The reason I slept down here with you? It’s because I didn’t want to let my eyes off of you. The reason I’m staying here? It’s because I can’t stomach the thought of you being alone. The reason I don’t want you going off your meds? Because I think throwing off your body chemistry when you’re already spiraling is a recipe for disaster.

“Do you know how I’ll find out? It won’t be like Bressie, who’ll be called to the hospital. I’ll find out because my boss will call me into his office and tell me that Conan is being brought back into the program and I’ll need to find someone new to match him with, if he can even be re-trained after that.”

“Harry-” Niall sighs. “I’m not going to kill myself.”

“Because you feel like you fucking can’t!” Harry chokes out, finally looking at Niall for the first time since this morning. “It’s not because you want to live! It’s because you feel like you’re carrying the souls of the eight people who died there on your back! So what fucking happens when the scale tips and your desire to die is more powerful than your guilt for surviving, Niall?”

“That’s not going to happen.” Niall tells him.

“You don’t know that.” Harry breathes out. “You refuse to talk to me or anyone else. You’ve gone off of your meds. You- You’re dealing with more now than you have at any point since you’ve gotten back, and I’m terrified that you’re not going to be able to handle it. But I know – I know – that you can’t handle it alone.”

“You need to trust that I can, Harry.” Niall mutters.

“You haven’t given me one reason to believe that!” Harry snaps. “You are the most self-destructive person I’ve ever met, and that is really fucking saying something, Niall!”

“Well I guess it sucks for you that you fell in love with someone so fucking awful, doesn’t it?” Niall asks icily.

“You don’t get it.” Harry says softly. The look he gives Niall tears his heart out, so open and vulnerable and heartbroken. There are tears in his eyes, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to stop any time soon. “You aren’t awful, Niall. You- You’re amazing. Even when you make me want to tear my own hair out, you’re amazing. You take my fucking breath away because you’re so radiant.”

Before Niall can answer, before he can tell Harry to stop this before he gets in too deep and gets hurt, the doorbell rings and Niall calls out, “It’s unlocked.”

“Fuck you.” Harry mutters, pushing himself off of the couch and heading straight out of the back of the house, wiping at his eyes with Conan following close behind. He can’t get the door to the garden closed fast enough to cover a heart-wrenching sob though, and Niall feels like he should go after him.

He doesn’t, of course.

He can’t, and not just because he doesn’t have his leg back yet.

Instead he just sits on the couch and waits for Liam to find him. He’s got something that he has to deal with before he can talk to Harry, something to take his mind off of Harry’s confessions ringing in his ears and give him a second to breathe even though this feels almost as suffocating.

“Do you have the forms?” Liam asks stiffly, setting Bobby’s case on the coffee table.

“They’re right there.” Niall mumbles, pointing to the stack of papers on the end table.

“So I was right.” Liam says after a minute of scanning through them. “You were in a fight. Don’t suppose you’ll tell me why?”

“You’re not a doctor.” Niall says quietly.

“It doesn’t take a doctor to read a fucking form, Niall.” Liam huffs. “Or to understand why you were in a fight.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Niall sighs, shaking his head. “It’s just that- Doctor-patient confidentiality doesn’t apply to our relationship, does it?”

“I don’t have to be a doctor to keep a secret for you either, Niall.” Liam says softly, perching himself in the chair closest to the couch.

“If I told you this-” Niall starts, cutting himself off to take a deep breath. “You couldn’t tell Louis, and that’s not fair to ask of you now. Not with the way that things are between-”

“Niall.” Liam cuts him off. “What you say to me is only between you and me.”

“It’s big, Li.” Niall says weakly. “It’s really fucking big, and I can’t risk you telling him, because he’ll try to force his way back in and I can’t handle that on top of everything else in my life right now. Everything is falling apart, and it’ll- It’ll fucking break me to have to deal with even one more fucking thing.”

“Niall, I know that you don’t trust us anymore because we kept our relationship a secret, but-” Liam starts, pausing to rub his hand over his face and sigh. “But you have to know, deep down, that I only want what’s best for you. We messed up- I messed up - by keeping secrets from you, but I can keep a secret for you if it’ll help relieve some of this for you. I’m not going to force it out of you, but you can tell me if it’ll help.”

“Eoghan’s alive.” Niall breathes out.

“What?” Liam asks confusedly. “Niall- Have you been hallucinating again?”

“No.” Niall grunts out. “He’s fucking alive. He was here, yesterday. That’s who I was in a fight with. I saw him, and- And I tried to fucking kill him right on the front step. He sat exactly where you’re sitting right now, and he told me that it was worth it to leave me behind, and that they caught Scar, and that he’s paralyzed now, and his network is destroyed, and- And Eoghan is fucking alive, Liam. I wasn’t hallucinating him. He’s been keeping tabs on me, and when I saw him, it was really him.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Liam mutters, leaning his head back against the chair.

“You can ask Harry if you don’t believe me.” Niall spits out. “He was here for the whole thing. He’s out in the garden right now.”

“I believe you.” Liam says firmly, looking over at Niall. “Did you get any good swings in?”

“His face was black and blue by the time he left.” Niall admits. “And I would have killed him if Harry hadn’t pulled me off of him.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.” Liam nods, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “But I’m glad that you didn’t.”

“Haven’t decided if I feel the same way yet.” Niall mutters.

“You don’t want that stain on your soul, Niall.” Liam says quietly.

“I’ve already taken one life, Liam.” Niall says flatly. “What’s one more?”

“It’s different.” Liam argues. “That was self-defense.”

“That was murder.” Niall counters. “I murdered him, Liam. Why do you all try to excuse that? Why would killing Eoghan be any different than what I did then? Eoghan hurt me more than that kid ever could have.”

“You loved him, Niall.” Liam says gently. “No matter what happened in the end, no matter if that love was a coping mechanism, you loved him. If you’d killed him, even if he deserved it, you wouldn’t be able to come back from that.”

“Who says I’m ever coming back from the first one?” Niall scoffs. “What makes you think I’m ever going to come back from any of it?”

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life.” Liam says simply. Niall rolls his eyes and Liam sighs before saying, “I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true, Niall. You’re incredibly, unbelievably strong. When we met, back when I was just making a foot for you, you were so far gone I thought you’d never be okay.

“And I’m not saying your life is perfect and you’ve worked through everything, because it isn’t and you haven’t, but you’ve come so far since then, and it’s amazing. Don’t discount all that you’ve managed to accomplish just because your life isn’t what it was before. You’re probably not going to be that person again, and that’s okay. What happened changed you on a fundamental level, it changed your path, and it’s a much harder journey. But if anyone can make it on that path, I know it’s you.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Louis.” Niall snorts.

“That’s debatable.” Liam chuckles. “And don’t worry. I won’t tell him about this.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out in a sigh of relief.

“Alright, let’s make sure Bobby is working properly, and then I’ll get out of here so Harry doesn’t have to sit out in the garden.” Liam says, getting off the chair and scooting across the floor until he’s sat in front of Niall.

“That’s not about you.” Niall mumbles. “That- That’s all me. Things with Harry are- They’re complicated.”

“Because he’s arse over tits for you?” Liam asks, opening up Bobby’s case.

“You’ve spent a grand total of five minutes with him.” Niall groans. “How could you know anything about that?”

“Those five minutes were more than enough.” Liam says with a nod, carefully removing Bobby from the foam he’s so carefully packed into. “The day everything went down- It was pretty clear. The way that he spoke to you- The way that he touched you- It was all like a flashing neon sign.”

“Jaysus.” Niall mutters. “Well- I’ve never been good at reading signs. Would’ve known something about Eoghan was wrong if I had.”

“He was trained to hide that part of himself, Niall.” Liam points out, pushing Niall’s shorts back up to his hip. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Yes, I could have.” Niall says, shutting his eyes. “There were signs. I was just too naïve to see them. If I’d paid attention, if I hadn’t gotten pulled in by him so immediately, then I would have noticed something was off. His name wasn’t even right on his volunteer form, and I just let him charm me into not thinking about it.”

“That was his job, Niall.” Liam says gently, pressing Bobby onto his stump. “That’s what he did. That’s what he was trained to do. Don’t keep beating yourself up just because you weren’t trained in counter-espionage tactics.”

“You don’t get it.” Niall sighs. “All those months in there, and I never let myself realize that he was too smart, that he listened too intently to conversations he said he didn’t understand, that he figured things out that he shouldn’t have been able to. I fooled myself into believing him because the truth was so much harder than the fantasy. It’s not that I couldn’t see it. It’s that I refused to let myself because I wanted to believe him.”

“And why is that something to blame yourself for?” Liam asks. “You needed something to hold onto in there, so why be angry at yourself for finding a way to cope with a situation like that?”

“Because, if I’d paid attention, then I never would have been in there in the first place.” Niall admits. “I was supposed to leave the country two days before we were taken. I was only there because I wanted to see how things were with Eoghan, and I let my last conversation with my da be a lie because I thought it would be easier to ask forgiveness later.”

“You’ve never told me that.” Liam says quietly.

“Because I was so ashamed of myself for it.” Niall whispers. “Because it’s the one thing I can only blame myself for. I told my da that I wanted to come back and start some new projects from London, but it was just because I was too scared to tell him the truth. I was too scared to tell him that what I really wanted were the two things that he had always tried so hard to give me by himself, but in doing it that way, he actually deprived me of them.

“I wanted a home and a family. I wanted to stop running all around the planet and spending more time in airports than in my own bed. I wanted my own place, and a boyfriend, and a routine. I wanted to help people on a personal level, not a global one, and I was too scared to tell my da, because he was such a good father, but I thought he’d feel like a bad one if I told him that I wanted a different life than the one we’d had.

“So I lied to him, because I thought I could handle it later, and there was no later. And the last thing that I said to him was that he should go watch porn and eat a microwave meal and leave me alone so that I could spend time with the man who ended up ruining my life.”

“You know- They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, but I disagree.” Liam tells him, pressing the button to boot Bobby up. “Hindsight is a bitch. I think we see the past based on where we are now. Maybe your last talk with your father wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t terrible, Niall. You didn’t hurt him. You didn’t fight.

“And maybe you didn’t say the things that you would have said if you’d known that it was going to be the last one, but you shouldn’t feel ashamed of wanting a different kind of life than what you were living. I didn’t know him, obviously, but I think he would have just wanted you to be happy. If it was something different than what made him happy, I don’t think he would have been hurt by it.”

“But I’ll never know.” Niall chokes out. “Because- Because of him- I’ll never know.”

“You know, Niall.” Liam says, tilting Niall’s chin up. “Really think about it, and you know what you’ll find in your heart. Bobby would have wanted you to have a happy life, no matter what form that took. No part of you can really believe otherwise.”

“Dating a therapist is turning you into one.” Niall says with a weak smile.

“No, I would have said the same thing before I ever met Louis.” Liam hums. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about you, and sometimes it takes someone else to help us realize that we’re not looking at things the right way.”

“You should get going.” Niall says quietly. “Tommo is a stickler for punctuality in everyone except himself.”

“I know.” Liam says with a fond grin. “Drives me fucking bonkers. Let’s just do a quick test to make sure Bobby is working properly.”

“Ugh, I hate this part.” Niall grumbles, waiting until Liam stands up and out of the way before he pushes himself up off of the couch.

They do a quick run-through of basic functions, making sure that Bobby can handle it when Niall walks and turns and crouches and leans and reaches, all at an excruciatingly slow pace because he has to repeat everything at least three times. He doesn’t know why they bother, because Liam is actually a genius with this stuff, and Niall has no doubt that he fixed Bobby perfectly.

“Are we done?” Niall asks after he puts a book back on the top shelf for the third time. “Do I have your stamp of approval?”

“Yeah, we should be good.” Liam nods. “Just give me a call if it acts up.”

“I will.” Niall agrees. “And- Thank you. For all of this. For coming out here twice in one day, and for talking things through with me, and for keeping my secret, even after I cut you out.”

“You’re my friend, Niall.” Liam says with a shrug. “Even if I’m not yours.”

“Just- Just give me some time, alright?” Niall requests. “I’m still not okay with everything, but I’m going to try to be. Trust is just- It’s hard for me, and, right now, I need things to stay where they are, because I have too much going on to try and figure out where anyone else fits into my life. But you really tried for me today, and I’m going to do the same.”

“Thanks.” Liam says softly. “Bye, Niall.”

“Not ‘bye’. Just ‘see you around.’” Niall mumbles. Liam shoots him a questioning look, and Niall explains, “It’s a Harry thing.”

“See you around, then.” Liam smiles, he turns to leave, but stops before he makes it more than a step and digs through his pocket as he mutters, “Oh my god, Louis would have killed me if I forgot to give you these.”

“Give me what?” Niall asks.

“He said your prescriptions would be running out, and that you’d need these.” Liam explains, handing over a few slips of paper. “He wanted you to have your bases covered in case you haven’t found a new therapist, since nobody has called to request your patient files.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out, staring down at the slips in his hand. “Okay. Thanks.”

“See you around, Niall.” Liam repeats, heading out of the room.

Niall doesn’t move, doesn’t think or breathe until he hears the sound of the front door click shut. It takes everything he has in him to not tear them to shreds right there, but then an idea hits him and he heads over to the door that leads to the garden. He takes a deep breath and then opens it up.

“I don’t want to talk right now.” Harry says as soon as Niall steps outside.

“I don’t need you to talk.” Niall tells him. “But I do need you to go do something for me, since I can’t drive.”

“I’m not your errand boy, Horan.” Harry says coldly, shooting him a red-rimmed glare.

“You’re the one that wants me back on my meds.” Niall says, holding up the papers between his fingers. “I thought you’d be happy to go get them filled for me.”

“Really?” Harry asks breathlessly, his anger dropping away in an instant.

“If it’ll make you feel better for me to go back on them.” Niall nods. “I’ll start up again tomorrow morning if you go get them filled for me.”

“Niall-” Harry whimpers, launching himself up off of the lounger and almost knocking the blond to the ground with how hard he crashes into him. Somehow they manage to stay on their feet, and it probably has something to do with the way Harry is practically floating off of the ground when he holds Niall tight and murmurs, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

This lie is different than the one that Niall told Bobby. This one is just going to help Harry feel better. It can’t hurt anyone, and that’s what Niall tells himself when Harry runs inside, looking more relieved than Niall has seen him all day.

 

“Do you have a razor?” Harry asks from somewhere back behind Niall.

Jesus Christ, it is way too early to deal with him. Niall hasn’t even finished half of his coffee yet.

“It’s next to my sink.” Niall mutters.

“No, but like- An unused one?” Harry requests.

“If you wanted a razor, why didn’t you get one while you were at the-” Niall starts, the question dying in his throat when he turns and finds Harry standing fucking starkers in the doorway to his kitchen. “What the fuck?”

“I’m about to take a shower, and I need to do some maintenance.” Harry says, like that explains why he’s as naked as the day he was born. “Everything is growing back in, and it’s a hassle if I don’t take care of it before it gets too long. I need a fresh razor or it’ll give me razor-burn, and that’s not something I want between my cheeks, if you know what I mean.”

“I- Jaysus.” Niall sighs, turning back to his coffee. “Under my sink. Should be a few packs in there. I don’t have any shaving cream that’s meant for that, though. Just like- The face stuff.”

“Conditioner is actually better for this.” Harry hums. “Thanks.”

“What-the-fuck-ever.” Niall says into his coffee once he hears Harry’s footsteps retreating.

It is going to be a really long day if the feeling in Niall’s gut is anything to go by.

 

“I made breakfast.” Harry says lightly, dropping down on the lounger next to Niall.

“You cannot be serious.” Niall groans, looking over at the brunet to find him in nothing more than a pair of briefs that Niall is pretty sure belong to him, not Harry.

“I am.” Harry muses, holding up his plate. “Eggy bread?”

“What are you doing out here like that?” Niall growls. “I have neighbors!”

“And all my bits are covered.” Harry replies with a shrug.

“At least put some fucking trousers on!” Niall hisses.

“No.” Harry smirks. “My tan-lines will get all messed up. Besides, I don’t want to.”

“It’s September in London.” Niall says flatly. “You aren’t going to tan outside of a booth. And why the fuck not?”

“I like the feeling when my legs rub against each other right after I’ve shaved them.” Harry explains. “Feels insanely good. Feel them.”

“Harry-” Niall scoffs.

Harry isn’t having it though.

He turns and plops his legs right down on Niall’s lap, a determined look on his face as he demands, “Feel them.”

Niall sighs and presses his hand to Harry’s leg, not missing the shudder Harry gives as Niall’s skin glides over the silky smoothness. And Niall can’t deny that they feel amazing, but he can’t admit it either.

Instead, he settles on pushing them back off of his lap and scowling as he asks, “Satisfied?”

“Mostly.” Harry smirks.

“Then why can’t you just go inside?” Niall asks. “It’s fifteen degrees. You’ve got to be freezing.”

“Because you’re out here.” Harry answers slowly, as if he’s afraid Niall’s gone stupid and won’t be able to understand those four words.

“I took my pills.” Niall lies. In reality, he’d just tossed today’s handful in the loo and flushed them, but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “Can’t you trust that I’m not going to off myself in my garden? Or that I don’t need a babysitter every second?”

“Believe it or not, Niall-” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes. “I’m out here because I like spending time with you.”

“Completely baffling.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “Especially when yesterday you couldn’t stand to look at my face for pretty much the whole day.”

“You were being a dick yesterday.” Harry snorts.

“I’m a dick all the time.” Niall counters. “It’s my thing.”

“Not all the time.” Harry says quietly. “Not when you decided to go back on your meds so I could have some peace of mind.”

Well- That’s like a punch to the stomach.

“Most of the time, you’re my favorite person in the world.” Harry continues quietly, not even noticing the brief clench Niall’s entire body gives involuntarily. “Don’t tell my sister I said that, but it’s true. I-”

“Harry, stop.” Niall mutters. “Please.”

“Why?” Harry asks.

“You know why, Harry.” Niall says softly, looking over at him. “Why do you insist on pushing this?”

“Why do you insist on denying it?” Harry asks right back.

“Because my life is a pile of flaming rubble right now, and you’re pouring petrol on it.” Niall tells him. “I’ve told you, this - whatever this thing is between us – it can’t be more than friendship. That’s the most I have to give, and if it’s not enough for you, then you should walk away. You stood in my kitchen less than two days ago and told me that you understand why this can’t happen.”

“No, I told you that I understand why you are the way that you are about it.” Harry mumbles. “I don’t understand how you can think I’d ever hurt you like he did. What I feel for you isn’t a coping mechanism or a lie, Niall. I’m not him.”

“I know that.” Niall nods. “I know that you aren’t like him.”

“Then why won’t you give me a chance?” Harry asks weakly.

“Because you’re me, Harry.” Niall breathes out. “I’m not afraid that you’re him, because you’re me, and I’m him. What you said yesterday- That you think I’m radiant- That’s so much like how I felt about Eoghan that it terrifies me.”

“Niall-” Harry starts, but Niall isn’t finished.

“I couldn’t see it, Harry.” Niall barrels through. “I couldn’t see his darkness because I was fucking blinded by his light. There wasn’t much of it, but what there was, was so intense that it kept me from seeing the truth. It kept me from realizing that his darkness would swallow me whole, and I can’t let that happen to you. I can’t be your Eoghan. So- Please- Stop looking at my light, and look at my darkness instead. See me for the real me, and realize that I could never be good for you. I’d hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.” Harry says firmly.

“I would.” Niall tells him. “Harry- You need to get a grip on this. You need to stop acting like a kid and realize that things don’t always work out the way that you want them to. You need to realize that people can’t always be who we want them to be.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Niall.” Harry scoffs. “I can take care of myself.”

“Thought you liked older guys who took care of you, Styles.” Niall sneers, only realizing once the words are out of his mouth that he’s just pulled a pin on a grenade and dropped it on the ground between them.

Harry looks like he’s been slapped, recoiling and drawing in on himself.

“Harry-” Niall says with a gulp. “I’m sorry. I- I-”

“Where did you hear that name?” Harry asks, looking at Niall like he’s holding a gun to the brunet’s head.

“You told it to me?” Niall tries, but it comes out like a question.

“I don’t use that name with clients.” Harry bites out, his face going from stunned and scared to pissed off in an instant. “I use my mother’s maiden name, Selley. How do you know that fucking name, Niall?”

“I know about your past.” Niall says quietly.

“How long have you known?” Harry asks angrily.

“Since the day after we built the fence.” Niall admits.

“And how much do you know?” Harry questions.

“Everything.” Niall sighs. “I know that you were on a show, and then there was a sex-tape, and then you went into porn.”

“Have you watched?” Harry asks shakily.

“No!” Niall rushes out. “Harry, of course not!”

“Then where did you hear me say that I like older guys who can take care of me?” Harry asks him.

“I- When I was told to google ‘Harry Styles’, I had my safe-search on, and the first thing that popped up was a YouTube video. When I clicked on it, it was just a video of you singing from the show. And then there was this playlist called ‘The Best of Harry Styles’ that was a bunch of clips and interviews, so I watched it, and the last video was the interview part for some porn studio.” Niall explains.

“Fuck!” Harry hisses, pushing himself off of the lounger and running inside.

Niall goes to chase after him, but Conan gets in his way. He growls, but doesn’t snap, just trying to keep Niall in place until the sound of the front door slamming shut rings out through the air and Niall’s heart plummets into his stomach.

 

The sound of a key slipping into a lock breaks Niall out of the trance that he’s been in for hours now, and his breath catches in his throat as he waits to see who will step through the door. He can feel it before he sees though.

It’s like his whole body is attuned to Harry’s presence. His stomach flips over and his heart races and his palms sweat and his hair stands on end. It’s like he can taste Harry in the air, and his body doesn’t know whether to relax or freeze.

It turns out to be neither once Harry strides past the door to the sitting room without even glancing in Niall’s direction, heading straight for the stairs. Niall is on his feet in an instant, going after Harry as fast as he can.

Unfortunately, stairs are not the easiest thing in the world for him, and it takes him a minute to get all the way up there.

As soon as Niall steps into the doorway, Harry asks, “Where’s my mobile? I thought I left it in here.”

“I have it.” Niall tells him. “I tried calling you, and then I heard it ringing and realized you left it behind.”

“Give it to me.” Harry demands, shoving the clothes that he’d been wearing the night of Niall’s birthday into a Tesco bag. He’s wearing the ones he’d left here when he changed to go golfing with Niall, must have put them on in the time it took Niall to get upstairs, and the memory of it tugs at the blond’s heart. Everything was good that morning. He wishes he could just go back and none of this would happen.

“Not until you talk to me.” Niall says weakly.

“No!” Harry growls, glaring over at him. “You don’t get to hold my property hostage to force me to talk.”

“Fuck.” Niall sighs, digging Harry’s mobile out of his pocket and tossing it on the bed. “I’m sorry. I just- I just want to talk, Harry.”

“You realize what a fucking hypocrite you are, right?” Harry asks with a huff, tucking his mobile into his jeans. “You cut Liam and Louis, your best friends, out of your life for exactly the same thing you’ve done to me.”

“You didn’t want me to know, Harry.” Niall tries to defend himself, even though that’s exactly the same thing he’s been thinking to himself for the last few hours.

“But you did know, Niall.” Harry says, shaking his head. “And instead of telling me you knew, you just waited to use it against me.”

“I didn’t mean to do that.” Niall says quietly. “God- Harry, I didn’t mean to do anything like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Literally less than a minute before, you’d told me that you were going to hurt me, Niall.” Harry argues. “Well, congratulations, you did.”

“Not on purpose.” Niall whispers. “Never on purpose, Harry. I kept it a secret because I thought that’s what you would want. I thought you’d be hurt if you knew that I knew, and I couldn’t un-know it, so I just tried to keep you from having to feel this.”

“Do you even know what I’m feeling right now?” Harry scoffs.

“Ashamed?” Niall guesses.

“No.” Harry says, shaking his head. “I’m not ashamed of my past, Niall. I fucked blokes on camera. So fucking what? I had to find a way to make a life for myself after someone that I trusted, someone that I let myself believe that I loved, betrayed me. Sound familiar?”

“Harry-” Niall starts, only to be cut off by a withering glare.

“Watching a few YouTube clips about my career doesn’t mean that you know everything, Niall.” Harry mutters, sitting on the foot of Bobby’s bed. “You don’t know anything about what happened to me. And- And that’s my fault, because I didn’t tell you.”

“Then tell me now.” Niall requests.

“I had been dating a guy.” Harry says quietly. “He was older than me- Like- A lot older. And married. He was my director. On my eighteenth birthday, we had sex, not for the first time, and it was one hell of a shag. He pulled out all of the stops, got me to act out his fantasies and call him ‘daddy’ and it was just a fun, filthy night. And then, two days later, I find out, alongside the rest of the world, that he had secretly taped it. His cloud was hacked, and the video went online, and I was outed in a sex-tape where I wore lace knickers and let a married man spank me and called him daddy in a way that made it seem like I had seduced him because that’s what we were roleplaying.

“My parents threw me out. The show fired me and my recording contract was revoked, both under the pretense of breach of a morality clause. My ex tried to apologize, but I was too furious to consider taking him back after what he’d done. Then my parents died. I was spiraling, my career was dead, and everybody in the country had seen my sex-tape. I was packing a bag, didn’t even care where I was going, when my agent called me.

“He told me not to take the bait. He told me not to get drawn into a twitter argument over a joke. And I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I checked, and some porn studio had tweeted that they would make my sex-tape much better if I came down and shot with them. They’d even let me have my pick of their boys.

“And I was so out of sorts, so fucked up over everything, that I tweeted back and told them to make me an offer. Over the next few days, there was an honest to god bidding war over me. Every major gay porn studio in Europe and America were trying to one-up each other, and my agent lost his mind. Then Étalon came along and offered me a five year contract, five-hundred-thousand pounds a year, for a scene every month and a film each year, with an option to leave after two years with no repercussions.

“Two years in, my contract was revised, and I stopped doing monthly scenes, and instead took part in like- An episodic porn series called ‘Boys of your Dreams’ to compete with the Bel Ami ‘Kinky Angels’, where I lived in a house with the five other highest rated models on the site and it was actually kind of fun. I learned how to speak a bit of Romanian and French and Italian, and how to juggle, and had basically everything I could want or need provided for me.

“After another two years, my scene count was up to sixty, and I was beginning to get worn out and tired of it. One of the other lads I lived with suggested that I try coke, because it made things easier. I did, a few times, but then Gemma called and told me that her boyfriend had left her and I went straight there. I fell in love with Conan, realized how fucked up I had let everything get, and I decided not to renew my contract for the fifth year. I shot a final episode, and then I moved in with her, helped her raise Conan, and Simon got me into All Dogs go to Heaven.

“And I didn’t tell you at first because it wasn’t your business, and we both had secrets that we wanted to keep. Then, by the time that I decided I would tell you, I realized I was falling in love with you, and I was so scared you’d be disgusted with me that I couldn’t do it. And I’m not ashamed- I’m not- Because that’s my story, both the good and bad parts of it and I can’t be ashamed of it without being ashamed of myself. And now I don’t know what else to say, and I can’t stall your reaction anymore, and- Fuck.”

“It doesn’t change anything, Harry.” Niall tells him. “I’ve known the gist of it for a long time now, and I haven’t let it change anything.”

“But are you?” Harry asks weakly, pushing himself off of the bed. “Are you disgusted with me? Is that why you don’t want anything to do with me? Because of the porn?”

“No, Harry-” Niall tries to tell him.

“Because you’re sleeping with a prostitute and he’s probably slept with a lot more guys than I have.” Harry says quickly.

“You know?” Niall asks, blanching.

“I’m a former sex worker, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “You learn to read between the lines. I’ve known since the morning that I saw him leaving your house the first time. And if you’re disgusted with me, but fine with him, that’s not fair.”

“I’m not disgusted by you, Harry.” Niall tells him.

“Then- Then, why?” Harry asks in a whisper, stepping in front of Niall.

“Because what I have with him is just physical, Harry.” Niall mumbles. “I don’t care about him the way that I care about you. It doesn’t mean anything like that with him, but it would with you.”

“Because you have feelings for me?” Harry asks.

“Yes.” Niall breathes out.

Harry surges forward, cupping Niall’s cheeks in his hands as their lips meet. And, even if Niall had ever let himself picture this, had ever allowed himself the fantasy of being with Harry, he still couldn’t have imagined a kiss like this.

He tenses, freezes, at first, but melts into it almost immediately, his fingers curling into Harry’s shirt as he kisses back. And Harry’s tongue is sweet, the remnants of the strawberries he’d eaten with his eggy bread this morning still there, but the taste of salt, the taste of everything that Niall has put him through, is lingering on Harry’s lips. And the kiss is so much more than Niall ever thought a kiss could be, makes him feel like he’s floating, but it also makes him feel like he’s falling straight into hell.

No matter how much he tries to lick away the salty taste, it doesn’t erase the tears that Harry shed, or the pain that caused them.

If it doesn’t stop now, then Niall will end up hurting him in the end.

So Niall pushes Harry away – Takes every bit of strength he can muster, even though it feels like his entire body is rebelling against the action – Pushes him hard enough to practically throw him across the room. His nails leave scratches on Niall’s cheeks with the suddenness, and the yelp he lets out when the backs of his legs hit the bed and send him tumbling onto it is piercing.

He looks up at Niall, confusion and hurt written over his face when he opens his mouth, but Niall beats him to it with a growled, “Get the fuck out of my house, and don’t come back!”

“Niall-” Harry chokes out, his bottom lip trembling and his eyes already leaking tears again.

“You couldn’t leave it alone!” Niall spits venomously at him. “I told you and I told you and I told you that this can never happen, but you just couldn’t respect that! You had to keep pushing like you always do!”

“You admitted it, Niall!” Harry snaps. “You can’t just take it back that you said have feelings for me!”

“Right now, the only thing I feel is disgusted.” Niall says icily, going for the jugular because heartbreak now will be better for Harry in the long run. Staying away from Niall can only improve his life. He’ll be safer, happier, once they’re not a part of each other’s lives anymore. “How the fuck am I ever supposed to kiss you without thinking of every guy you ever fucked one camera for anyone to see? You’re nothing more than a glorified whore. I could be friends with you, but I could never love you.”

“Fuck you.” Harry breathes out, grabbing his bag off of the bed and then rushing out past Niall, sobs splitting the air as he pounds his way down the stairs before he bursts out of the front door and slams it behind him.

Niall hears Conan whimpering, scratching at the door and trying to chase after Harry, but he can’t pay any attention to it. His body goes numb and he slumps against the wall, lowering himself down as quickly as he can before his good leg can give out and fuck up Bobby by putting all of his weight on it.

The cries come fast and hard, rocking through Niall’s body with more force than he even knew was possible. He doesn’t notice the passing of time as he sobs on the floor of his father’s bedroom, but it’s dark by the time his eyes dry out and the tears stop coming. Conan came in a while before, back when the sun hadn’t set and blanketed the room in a suffocating darkness yet. His head is resting on Niall’s leg, and he either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, when Niall shifts around to sit up and lean against the wall. He seems a bit pissed off, honestly, but he really has every right to be.

Niall hurt Harry again, pushed him out of Conan’s life completely, and he decides to just get it over with and put the final nail in the coffin of his and Harry’s relationship. The first thing he does is send a text to Ashton, and then he pushes himself off of the floor to grab his father’s old address book. There’s a number in there that he needs, and then him and Harry will really be over once and for all.

He doesn’t allow himself to hesitate when he dials the number, refuses to let his breath hitch in his throat when there’s an answer, and instead says, “Simon, this is Niall Horan. We need to talk.”


	22. Chapter 22

“Ash!” Niall gasps. “Stop! I’m- I’m about to-”

“Christ, maybe this was a bad idea.” Ashton chuckles, pulling his hands back away from Niall’s back. “You were already so responsive. Giving you ecstasy is just magnifying it all.”

“How is it doing that?” Niall asks breathlessly, looking back over his shoulder at Ashton with wide eyes. “How can it make me almost cum from a back massage?”

“Well, to be fair, babe-” Ashton hums, kissing at Niall’s shoulder and giving a shallow thrust. “I do have my cock in your ass.”

“But you’re not really doing anything with it.” Niall groans. “Which is just really feckin mean, by the way. You’re a tease.”

“You wouldn’t last thirty seconds right now.” Ashton says, smirking into Niall’s neck as he sneaks his hand around the blond’s chest and circles his nipple with the tip of a finger. “And, besides, when have I ever not delivered, babe?”

“Never.” Niall grunts out in frustration, fisting his fingers in the sheets. “But I wanna cum.”

“You will.” Ashton murmurs. “I don’t think I could stop you right now if I tried. I think you should probably slow down though, Niall. We’ve been at this for fifteen hours already. You haven’t cum wet for the last six times. You’ve got to be sore by now.”

“I’ll let you know when it gets to be too much.” Niall lies.

Truth is, it was too much hours ago. Niall hasn’t slept since Saturday night, hasn’t been able to shut off the buzzing in the back of his brain since he pushed Harry out of his life permanently. Ashton couldn’t make it until Sunday night, and now they’re well into Monday, and Niall’s body wants to give out completely, but Niall relishes the pain.

He relishes the way his body feels like it’s been scratched raw and split open and torn apart. He relishes the way the chemicals in his bloodstream are making every sensation fold in on itself over and over and over again so that he feels all of the ache with every part of himself instead of just the part that’s suffering. He relishes the way that every orgasm is far more pain than pleasure at this point, like he’s being turned inside out.

It’s so much better than the agony in his chest.

“Until then, just fuck me.” Niall tells him.

“If that’s what you want.” Ashton says quietly, pushing himself back up and dragging Niall’s hips with him so that Niall is forced to lift up onto his elbows.

He covers his face with his hands to muffle the choked sob he lets out at Ashton’s first thrust. Fire races through his system, licking and scorching its way from his hole until it’s searing from the tips of his fingers to his toes. And there’s pleasure, a tight ball of it settled in his lower gut that feels like it’s bubbling under his skin, but it isn’t strong enough to quench the flames.

Ashton doesn’t stop, and Niall doesn’t tell him to. He doesn’t want him to. He wants to burn in this until there’s nothing left of himself to feel like he’s been feeling. This despair - This bleeding, throbbing wound in his chest – needs to be cauterized.

He hears a noise, a crash that sounds both close and far away at the same time, but he’s too far gone to care anymore. Nothing matters except getting this ache to stop.

He doesn’t get that release, though. When he cums, it’s like it compounds everything. Like he explodes inside, but his skin contains the mushroom cloud and forces him to stay together, no matter how much pressure pushes at the torn seams that are holding him together.

He’s barely caught his breath when the door to his bedroom flies open, and it’s like time stops dead for a second.

Harry looks furious, his eyes burning as he locks them on the two on the bed. Ashton’s fingers go tight on Niall’s hips to pull him flush as his own orgasm hits him. Niall’s breath catches in his throat and his entire body stiffens.

The air goes still, heavy with the acrid stench of sex and sweat, silent save for the heavy pants that Ashton and Niall are letting out off beat from each other.

And there’s a moment, however brief, that the image of having Harry in him like this, of their bodies working together like this, flashes through his mind and his cock gives an angry throb.

He blames it on the ecstasy and shoves it into the little Harry box he’s got hidden inside his head.

Ashton speaks first, a stiff, “Well- This is awkward,” in an attempt to defuse the tension that only really begins to crackle through the air once he says a word.

“Get! Out!” Harry growls, each word pronounced separately to add to the sheer intensity radiating off of him.

“Don’t think that’s your line to deliver here, Haribo.” Ashton scoffs, pulling out of Niall. And- fuck- That hurts, but Niall also isn’t sure how much longer he could have kept Ashton inside of him like that without crying, even without Harry bursting in. “You don’t dismiss me. Niall does.”

“Listen, whore-” Harry snarls, taking a step into the room with his fists clenched at his sides. “You can leave in your own car, or in an ambulance.”

“I’ll go if Niall tells me that he doesn’t want me here.” Ashton counters, sliding off of the bed to stand in opposition to Harry. “But I know that he doesn’t want you here. So how about you take your own advice, and you leave before you make things uglier than they need to be?”

“Stop!” Niall chokes out, grasping at the sheets and covering himself up as he scoots to the end of the bed. “Jaysus! Just stop!”

“Tell him to leave.” Harry demands, eyes stormy when he glances at Niall. “You and I are going to talk, Niall, and I’m not leaving until we do.”

“Do you want me to get rid of him?” Ashton asks, looking over to Niall too.

“Just fucking try.” Harry says through gritted teeth.

“You don’t wanna see me try, Harry.” Ashton fires back at him, eyes never moving from Niall. “You want to walk away before I do anything that even resembles trying.”

“He pays you to fuck him, not be his bodyguard.” Harry scoffs.

“And he doesn’t want you for either, or I wouldn’t be here.” Ashton smirks.

“Take your money and go.” Harry says harshly.

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“You got me fired!” Harry snarls, turning to look at Niall again. “You owe me a fucking conversation, and if I have to throw your whore out to get it, I will!”

“Fuck.” Niall breathes out. “Ash, there should be plenty in the bible to pay what I owe.”

“Niall-” Ash says softly, crouching down next to him. And, well, the sight of Ashton on his knees certainly isn’t helping the swelling Niall has hidden behind his sheet go down. “Are you sure? When I got here last night, you were so- So broken. I’m not stupid. I know it’s him who’s done this to you. Are you absolutely sure you want to be alone with him?”

“I’ll be fine.” Niall nods. “Trust me, things can’t get any worse than I’ve dealt with before.”

“That’s not encouraging, Niall.” Ashton whispers. “If you want me to stay, just tell me to, and I will. I have your back.”

“Go.” Niall tells him. “Luke will already be getting worried about you, and a black eye would only make things worse.”

“I’ve seen the scars, Niall.” Ashton tells him. “A black eye is nothing compared to those, and you don’t need any more of them.”

“He won’t leave any.” Niall mumbles. “No matter how pissed off he is, he wouldn’t hurt me like that.”

“And what about the other kind?” Ashton asks.

“I’d have to have anything left inside for that to happen.” Niall says with a fake smile. “Don’t worry about me. That’s not what this is, yeah? I’m just a client.”

“You’re also a friend.” Ashton tells him.

“Then, please, as a friend, trust me.” Niall murmurs. “I can handle this.”

“You should at least come down before you try having a real conversation.” Ashton says, standing up from his position and walking over to where Niall had thrown his pants the night before. “You have about another hour or so before it’ll be out of your system.”

“Christ, what did you give him?” Harry asks angrily.

“Ex.” Ashton answers him. “It’s a low dose though, since it’s his first time.”

“You’re taking drugs now?” Harry growls at Niall.

“That’s none of your business.” Niall tells him. “What I do with my body is none of your fucking business, Harry.”

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs.

“No, Harry, not ‘whatever’!” Niall spits out. “You want to talk about what you came here for? Fine! But you don’t get to judge me or throw Ashton out! You don’t have some kind of authority in my life just because you have feelings for me!”

“This isn’t about that.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes.

“Everything is about that with you.” Niall fires back at him. “Because you just can’t fucking help yourself! You couldn’t keep it locked up where it belonged! And then you come storming into my house, like you have any right! Like you didn’t bring all this on yourself!”

“Wow-” Harry breathes out, looking at Niall through eyelashes coated in tears that Niall is only now noticing. “Like mother, like son, right?”

That hits Niall like a bullet, stops his heart and his lungs and his brain from working for a moment. He may be going right for the throat, but Harry is doing the same. If there were anything left in him to break, it would be shattered.

“Shit!” Harry gasps, eyes going wide. “Niall- I- I didn’t-”

“Shut up.” Niall says flatly. “Wait until Ashton leaves, and then you can have your talk. Until then- Don’t say another fucking word.”

The tension in the room only grows heavier by the second, crackling with some fierce energy that keeps threatening to plunge Niall into an episode. Ashton dresses quickly, and Niall’s fingers itch with the urge to reach out and tell him not to go, to admit that he’s scared to be alone with Harry, not because he’s afraid of any pain, but because he’s afraid he’ll give in. That he’ll apologize for trying to push Harry away and give him the chance he’s been so desperately pleading for.

The only thing that keeps him from doing it is the knowledge that he’s finally pushed Harry far enough to hate him. It wasn’t on purpose, wasn’t his intention, but it’s more than good enough for Niall. Hell, it’s more than he ever hoped for.

Ashton cracks open the bible once he’s dressed, starts counting out notes, but Niall just says, “Take it all.”

“Niall-” Ashton says, turning to the blond and crinkling his brow in confusion. “There’s way more in here than what you owe me. At least three times as much.”

“Call it a tip then. Just take it and go.” Niall tells him.

“Call me if you want me to come back.” Ashton says quietly, taking the notes and shoving them in his pocket before he walks over to the bed. “I’ll come. I’ll keep tonight open for you.”

“There won’t be a call, Ashton.” Niall says, sweeping the fringe out of his face. “Don’t keep tonight open. Not for me. Use the extra and take Luke out or something. Or maybe buy yourself something pretty for next time we see each other instead of your try-hard punk gear.”

“Ass.” Ashton chuckles, pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek.

“Don’t mention ass.” Niall snorts. “I’m so fucking horny that you could probably talk me to orgasm right now.”

“In the fucking room.” Harry scoffs.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to kick his ass?” Ashton asks with a roll of his eyes.

“Positive.” Niall nods.

“Alright. See you next time, babe.” Ashton says softly, cupping Niall’s cheek and kissing him deeply. Niall is pretty sure it’s just to piss off Harry, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying it enough to fist his hands in Ashton’s jacket and groan at the feel of Ashton’s tongue and the taste of himself on it.

He takes off out of the door after that, leaving Harry and Niall alone until the brunet surprises Niall and walks out a few moments after the front door closes without saying a word. His footsteps are heavy on the stairs, and then the door slams shut again.

And- Fuck. Ashton really shouldn’t have pushed Harry so hard.

Niall crawls across the bed and shoves his stump into his sock before sliding Bobby on. He pushes himself off of the bed and moves as quickly as he can down the stairs to stop the fight before Harry can get hurt.

Only, when he throws the door open, Harry and Ashton aren’t fighting. They’re talking by Ashton’s car, and Ashton passes something over to Harry before they notice him. Ashton cracks a wide grin, pushing it into his hand with a laugh Niall can hear as clearly as if the Aussie were standing right next to him before he climbs into the car. Harry, on the other hand, turns bright red and practically sprints towards Niall while stripping off his jacket.

“What are you doing?” Harry hisses, rushing up the steps to Niall and wrapping his jacket around the blond’s waist.

“Um- Trying to stop you from getting your arse handed to you?” Niall says weakly, only just now realizing that he’s still naked.

“By running out here naked, with an erection?” Harry asks incredulously.

“Well, I wasn’t really thinking about the state I’m in when I was trying to stop you from eating pavement.” Niall huffs, tying the arms of Harry’s jacket around his hips to keep it in place.

“And what makes you think he’d win if we fought, Niall?” Harry asks, arching his brow.

“He’s shredded.” Niall admits. “And you keep pissing him off and insulting him. He’s a really great person, but you treat him like shite, and-”

“I hate him.” Harry cuts him off. “But I’m also not going to have a fucking brawl with him in the middle of the street over you.”

“Then why did you go out there?” Niall asks.

“To get you this.” Harry answers, leaning down and reaching into the pocket of his jacket to pull out- A dummy?

“Whatever weird fucking kink this is, I don’t want any part in it.” Niall scoffs.

“It’s for your teeth.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “Ecstasy makes you clench and grind your teeth pretty badly. You’ve been doing it since I got here, and this’ll give your mouth something to do instead. It’s called gurning, and that’s why people wear these to raves.”

“I’m not sucking on a dummy.” Niall grumbles.

“Do you really want to fuck up all the work that your braces did?” Harry sighs. “You just ran outside naked and I walked in on you getting fucked by a whore. Dignity is out of reach for you this morning.”

“You know, it’s really funny how you act like you didn’t used to do exactly what he does for a living.” Niall scoffs. “You just did it for everyone with a computer to see.”

“I did it legally.” Harry fires back.

“And what about the cocaine?” Niall asks, turning on his heel and trudging towards the kitchen. Now that Ashton’s gone, now that his senses aren’t being filled up and distracted, he’s feeling tired, and he’ll crash without a cup of coffee. “Did you do that legally? Is there some loophole that I haven’t heard of that lets you do drugs without legal repercussions? Or is that just you still being a hypocrite?”

“I wasn’t on prescription medication, Niall.” Harry argues, following behind him. “I didn’t have a history of mental illness. The risks for me were relatively low compared to what they are for you.”

And Niall wants to fire right back in Harry’s face, wants to tell him the truth about his meds, but he can’t. He can’t add that onto everything else he’s put Harry through.

“That’s my choice to make.” Niall says instead, setting his coffee maker to boil even though the taste pales in comparison to the one Harry got him. “How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t get a say in my life? You don’t get to barge into my home after I tell you never to come back for doing what you did.”

“You kissed me back, Niall.” Harry growls. “You admitted you have feelings for me.”

“You violated me and my trust, Harry.” Niall says icily. “No matter what I said, that didn’t give you the right to touch me like that. I’ve told you over and over again that this will never happen. You and I will never, ever be together. What you did was wrong.”

“And wasn’t breaking my heart enough for you?” Harry asks weakly. “Did you really have to take away the one thing I had left? Did you have to get me fired too?”

“I- I didn’t mean to.” Niall sighs. “I just called Simon and told him that I wanted you off of my case because I didn’t feel comfortable working with you anymore. I didn’t know they’d fire you.”

“You were my first official client, Niall.” Harry mutters. “What did you think would happen? Did you think they’d just let me keep going? Did you think they’d give me more clients when the only one I had called the chairman and said he wasn’t comfortable having me anywhere near him?”

“And what did you think would happen, Harry?” Niall asks, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him. “Did you think I’d just magically change my mind? Did you think I’d be able to handle having you around still after that? I’m sorry about getting you fired, but- But you really can’t blame me for wanting you out of my life after that. After you took advantage of me when I was at my lowest point in ages.”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Harry says harshly. “I’m sorry that I went too fucking far. I know I did, and I regret that. But you took this too far too, Niall.”

“I know.” Niall nods. “And I’m going to fix it. Just- Just give me a chance to come down from this, because I can’t talk to Simon Cowell when I’m so high and horny that I want to rub off on this fucking counter.”

“Jesus.” Harry grunts. “Can you not say stuff like that to me?”

“Almost asked you to join in upstairs.” Niall admits.

“Niall-” Harry breathes out.

“Ashton thinks you would be willing to do a threesome, even though you hate him.” Niall continues, reaching down and undoing the knot holding Harry’s jacket around his waist. “Would that help? If I let you fuck me, could you finally get some closure and let go of this? Ashton doesn’t even have to be there, or he can. Whichever would help you get past this.”

“Stop!” Harry growls out. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what, Harry?” Niall asks. “I thought that’s what you wanted. I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

“That’s the fucking least of it!” Harry roars, smacking his hand on the counter. “Stop trying to minimize what I feel for you! It’s not about wanting to fuck you, Niall! It’s about wanting everything with you! It’s about wanting to wake up with you every fucking morning for the rest of my life! It’s about wanting to hold you and tell you how amazing you are to me! It’s about wanting to be by your side and help you when you need it, because I fucking love you!

“This isn’t some fleeting thing! This isn’t a crush or me being naïve and young! You are the only person I’ve felt anything for in years! You are the only person I’ve ever met who I can ever picture myself being with anymore, because I have never connected to anyone the way I do with you! And I know that you fucking hate me, but that doesn’t change things for me! I’m not going to just fuck you and get over it! That’s not how it works!”

“Harry- I-” Niall says weakly, shrinking away. “I’m just trying to help.”

“This isn’t helping, Niall.” Harry replies coldly. “This is you trying to turn the feelings I have for you into something you can understand and pass off as nothing just because you’re too fucking scared of being happy to give me a chance. I’m not Eoghan, and I’m not you, Niall. I’m me. I’ve been through my own version of hell, and it may not have been as bad as yours, but that doesn’t mean that I’m some kid who doesn’t understand myself enough to tell the difference between what I feel for you and hormones. I love you, Niall, and that’s not something that I can just ‘get past.’”

“Conan is in the sitting room.” Niall mumbles. “You can go wait with him while I come down, and then we’ll go see Simon and I’ll do whatever I can to get you your job back.”

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, pushing off of the counter and stomping out of the room.

Niall waits until he hears the door to the sitting room open and close again before he gives in to the ache again and lowers himself down to the floor because the floodgates are opening, and he can’t stop them now.

 

“Niall.” a voice says firmly, pulling the blond out of his own head.

“Sorry, what?” Niall asks, blinking owlishly at Harry’s face in front of his own.

“They said we can go in.” Harry sighs. “I thought you said you had come down.”

“I have.” Niall huffs, letting Conan pull him up out of his chair. “I just zoned out while we were waiting.”

“Well you’d better zone back in.” Harry mutters. “I need you to put away everything else and focus on charming him into giving me my job back.”

“I said that I’ll fix it, and I will, Harry.” Niall mumbles, following him into the office at the end of the hall.

“I have to say, this is unexpected.” Simon hums, leaning back in his chair.

“We need to talk.” Niall says, taking the seat across from him. “You need to bring Harry back into All Dogs go to Heaven.”

“You’re the one who called me, Niall.” Simon says, his voice neutral and unyielding. He’s not easy to read, and that makes this much harder. “I took your complaint and passed it on, along with my recommendations, to the head of the charity.”

“I didn’t mean for you to fire him.” Niall sighs.

“You told me that he made you feel uncomfortable, and that you didn’t want him anywhere near you or your home again.” Simon parrots back to him. “That isn’t someone that we want associated with the enterprise.”

“Simon-” Harry starts.

“Harry, I have known you a long time.” Simon cuts him off. “Your parents were friends of mine, and, because of that friendship, I helped you. I gave you a position in a charity that I chair, despite my misgivings about your past. You repaid that favor by making your first ever client feel so uncomfortable that he felt it needed to be reported directly to the chairman of the board. What would you have me do? What would you have done in my position?”

“I would have-” Harry tries, but Niall isn’t going to let him shove his foot in his mouth.

“It’s on me, Simon.” Niall interjects. “It wasn’t Harry. It was me.”

“How do you mean?” Simon asks.

“I recently had a hiccup in my medication, and one of the side effects is extreme paranoia.” Niall tells him. “Harry was helping me through it, but I started projecting all of my problems onto him and panicked. The call I made to you, it was because of that. I’m not all there in the head, and sometimes that goes really bad and affects other people. Don’t punish Harry for my problems. Please.”

“To be honest, Niall, it wasn’t just your call.” Simon sighs. “We’ve been questioning Harry’s place in the charity for a while. He’s yet to take on a new canine partner, and he’s taken quite a bit of time off. He’s been distracted and listless at work, and we’re not sure how much longer he would have been there anyways.”

“What the fuck?” Harry asks angrily. “I have the highest client approval among any of the trainers!”

“You did.” Simon nods. “But your ratings have been sliding for the last couple of months. Even other trainers’ clients have begun to notice that you’re not really there when you’re at work.”

“I have an idea.” Niall sighs. And- Fuck. He really, really doesn’t want to do this, but he can’t see any alternative at this point. He only has one thing to offer, and if this doesn’t work, he doesn’t know what will.

 

_“Well fuck you too, Craig!” Niall yells, ripping his apron off over his head and throwing it at his manager- ex-manager now, actually. “All you cunts can suck my dick!”_

_In retrospect, throwing an entire iced latte in a customer’s face might not have been the best move, but the prick had it coming. He bitched and moaned about the barista, who wasn’t even Niall, getting his coffee wrong four separate times, acting as if they didn’t have the entire morning rush to contend with and he wasn’t holding up the line by complaining about the fact that their almond milk wasn’t the same brand that he uses at home and he didn’t like the taste of it._

_An iced latte to the face was the least Niall would have done if Craig hadn’t stormed over and fired him on the spot._

_It’s not like he wanted the job anyways, even if Dr. Bunetta had helped him get it. He’s probably going to be pissed off about this though, so Niall will have to start looking for a new therapist when he gets home. Again._

_Maybe he’ll try a woman this time._

_He barely gets two steps out the door before he collides with someone as solid as a wall and loses balance. He crashes backwards, landing hard on his arse with a yelp._

_“Watch where you’re going you giant, bloody oaf!” Niall yells, secretly grateful for a new target to direct his rage towards. He would have wrecked some shit in the café, but he can’t afford to sacrifice what little bit of a final paycheck he’ll still get. If he gets some of this out now, maybe he won’t punch a hole through his wall when he gets home. Again._

_“Niall Horan?” asks a voice that’s oddly familiar in the blond’s ears._

_He holds his hand up to block the light from blinding him, looking at a face he hasn’t seen in ages, and can’t help himself from breaking into a grin as he asks, “Bressie?”_

_“I definitely prefer that to ‘giant, bloody oaf’.” Bressie laughs, reaching down a hand and hauling Niall up to his feet with ease. God, he somehow seems even bigger than Niall remembers. “How are you doing, wee one?”_

_The name makes Niall sigh. It’s not one he’s been called in a long time, and while it’s a reminder of a better time, an easier time, he still hates being called that._

_“I’m twenty four, Bress.” Niall huffs. “Not exactly wee anymore.”_

_“You’ll always be wee compared to me.” Bressie hums._

_“Well, you’re a giant, so it’s not really fair to compare us, is it?” Niall grumbles._

_“You’re grumpier than I remember from the last time I saw you.” Bressie says gently, placing his hand on Niall’s shoulder._

_“I just got fired.” Niall mutters._

_“From LiveWell?” Bressie asks, crinkling his brow._

_“No.” Niall scoffs. “I’m not with them anymore. Haven’t been for a while now. I was working in that café until about two minutes ago.”_

_“Why don’t you come with me?” Bressie suggests. “I’ve got some stuff at my studio to take care of, but I’d really like to chat with you, Niall.”_

_“Guess I could.” Niall says with a shrug. “Haven’t got anything else to do.”_

_“Hey-” Bressie says once they’ve started walking in the direction he indicates. “You still play guitar?”_

 

“Oh, look who’s alive.” Bressie scoffs when Niall walks through the door. “Nice of you to finally remember you have a job and show up to it.”

“We need to talk.” Niall says with a gulp.

“We needed to talk days ago, Niall.” Bressie says flatly. “This shite you’ve been pulling is a whole new level for you. You haven’t come in. You didn’t call. I expected better from you, Niall. You weren’t much of an employee to begin with, but even I can only put up with so much of this before I have to fire you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I came here to quit.” Niall mumbles, picking at the hem of his shirt and looking anywhere to avoid Bressie’s gaze. Even without looking, he can already tell how much anger and disappointment is written on the older man’s face.

“You- You what?” Bressie stammers.

“I came here to put in my resignation, effective immediately.” Niall answers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Is this about the Murs offer?” Bressie asks. “Niall, you don’t have to resign just because you’re taking it. You could still work here as a freelancer.”

“I’m not taking that offer either.” Niall admits. “I wasn’t planning on this being permanent, but I guess it has to be. I’m sorry, Bress.”

“Niall, what are you doing?” Bressie questions. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m going to be working for Simon Cowell now.” Niall mutters, the words tasting like bile on his tongue.

“You said you’d never go back to that world.” Bressie argues. “You said that working for charities took more than you had to give. If you’re going back, why don’t you take the standing offer from Pepsi to go work for LiveWell again?”

“I’m not going back because I want to.” Niall says flatly. “I made a mistake, and this is the only way to fix it. I have to go work for All Dogs go to Heaven and train Harry to be for them what I was for LiveWell. Once I raise a certain amount, I’m free to go, but it’s not fair of me to ask you to hold my position for that long.”

“How much do you have to raise?” Bressie asks.

“Five-million quid.” Niall answers. “Enough for them to build a proper facility instead of what they have now.”

“Jaysus.” Bressie breathes out. “Niall, why would you agree to that?”

“Because I fucked up!” Niall spits out. “Everything in my life is spinning out of control, and I made a mistake, and now I have to fix it because it’s not me paying the price. It’s Harry. So I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch like this, but I have to do this. Goodbye, Bress. Thank you for everything. I’ll see you around, maybe.”

“I’ll hold it.” Bressie calls after him when he turns back towards the door. “I’ll hold your job, Niall.”

“Don’t bother.” Niall mutters. “You’ve done more than enough for me already, Bress. I’ll find my own way from here on out.”

He walks out before Bressie can respond to that, speeding down the sidewalk as fast as he can until he’s climbing into Harry’s car again.

“Drive.” Niall says when he looks up and sees Bressie come out of the studio.

“Niall-” Harry murmurs.

“I just gave up the last person in my life to help you, Harry.” Niall grits out. “Don’t fucking talk. Just drive.”

“Alright.” Harry nods, pulling out of his spot at the same time that Bressie notices them in the car. Not that it would’ve been hard, what with Conan pressing himself up against the window and yipping excitedly at the sight of him. Conan really liked Bressie, so that’s one more check in Niall’s guilt column for today.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks after a few minutes.

“No.” Niall admits. “But I was never going to be, so what does it matter?”

“You didn’t have to do this, Niall.” Harry says quietly.

“Yes, I did.” Niall replies, letting himself slip into numbness to deal with the ache that’s spreading through him. “Because, once this is over, you are going to walk away for good, and I won’t ever have to see you again. Once this is over, I get to be free of you, and that’s worth any price.”


	23. Chapter 23

“What are we doing here?” Harry asks, looking around the shop.

“Getting started on your training.” Niall answers him.

“At a tailor?” Harry asks confusedly.

“You need a suit.” Niall tells him.

“I have several suits, Niall.” Harry huffs.

“I know.” Niall nods, glancing over his shoulder at the younger lad. “I looked up all of your red carpet appearances to see your style, and the suits you wear make you look like a prat. You can’t wear high fashion, red carpet suits when you’re doing this job, Harry. This job isn’t about glitz and glamour.”

“I don’t have to wear a floral printed Gucci suit.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “I have others.”

“Like the one with the pinstripe bellbottoms that you wore to that adult film star awards show last January?” Niall scoffs.

“Stop being a dick.” Harry grunts out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not being a dick, Harry!” Niall hisses, turning fully towards him. “I’m trying to get you to be fucking serious! What you did before put the fucking spotlight on you! You’re fucking spoiled! This job- It’s never, ever about you! You’re the face, but what you do is point the spotlight on the people you work for, and off of yourself! That’s your job now!”

“I didn’t ask for that job.” Harry mutters.

“Well it’s the only thing I could do to keep you with the charity, Harry.” Niall sighs. “It was the only card I had to play. Simon knew my father, and he knows what I did for LiveWell. It’s all that I had to offer him to help get you your job back.”

“Don’t act like you’re doing this for me.” Harry scoffs. “Ten percent on everything we raise, plus a five percent bonus for every hundred-thousand raised in under six months? You’re in this for the money.”

“I just gave up a contract worth quarter of a million pounds as a signing bonus for a job people would literally kill for!” Niall growls, fisting his hands in Harry’s shirt and hauling him in close. “I abandoned the one person who ever really believed in me and treated me with respect, the only person who really cares about me without trying to change me! I am being forced back into a job I hated so much that it drove me straight into Eoghan’s arms and led to all of the shit that happened to me! I have given up everything, and I did it all for you! Don’t you dare try and say otherwise, you ungrateful little cunt!”

He shoves Harry back away from him again, chest heaving with anger before he sees the look on Harry’s face and it all runs out of him like a sieve. Harry looks shocked, like Niall expected, but more than that, he looks terrified.

“Harry-” Niall breathes out. “I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have done that.”

He shouldn’t have, no, but he can’t help it. Ever since he came off of his meds, it’s been a rough go of it. His moods have been swinging around wildly in the week since Niall agreed to this deal with Simon, even without Harry around to set him off until now. He’s been putting this off for as long as he could, but they finally had to meet up today, and the anxiety and mood-swings have been attacking in full force since the second that Niall spotted Harry outside of the shop.

“What the fuck, Niall?” Harry asks weakly, still leaning against the wall that Niall pushed him into.

“I’m sorry.” Niall whispers, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

Harry looks at him warily, but doesn’t flee, and Niall decides that that’s the best he’s going to get. It’s definitely more than he deserves.

 

“Did you mean what you said back there?” Harry asks, making Niall’s head snap up from where he’s stabbing his fork into his chips for something to do. He’s physically hungry, but his outburst with Harry has left him feeling too sick to actually eat now. It’s the first time that Harry has said anything to him other than to ask what Niall thinks of the designs of the various suits he tried on, and it’s unexpected to say the least.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Niall mumbles, looking back down at his meal. “I said a lot of things.”

“Do you really hate the job you’re training me for?” Harry clarifies.

“Yes and no.” Niall admits. “It’s complicated. The job itself is fine. It’s the people that I hate. It’s spending hours and hours trying to convince people who have more money than they’d ever possibly be able to use to give a bit of that to help people in need, even though they aren’t really losing anything. It’s being fake all the time to get what you need to get in order to help the people who need it. For you, it shouldn’t be a problem, if that’s why you’re asking.”

“Are you calling me fake?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes at Niall.

“I’m saying you used to be an actor.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “You’re used to kissing arse.”

“Did that more as a porn star, actually.” Harry smirks, making Niall snort before he can stop himself. It’s the first time he’s laughed in what feels like ages, and he has a hard time leveling himself out before he goes into a complete fit of giggles. “Well, at least I know you’re still in there somewhere. Do you think we can ever get back to what we had before your birthday?”

“No.” Niall says quietly, his amusement waning instantly.

“Why not?” Harry asks weakly.

“Because you changed everything, Harry.” Niall tells him, looking back up at him. “You changed it all, and it can’t go back. Before you admitted things, I could deny them and keep some semblance of a relationship with you, but that can’t happen anymore because the playing field changed as soon as you said those words. I really tried, but then you- We kissed, and that was the final straw. That was the point of no return.”

“I miss you.” Harry says softly.

“I-” Niall starts, the words bubbling up in his throat reflexively before lodging themselves in there and refusing to depart. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Harry.”

“I want you to say we can be friends again.” Harry murmurs, reaching across the table and placing his hand on top of Niall’s. “Please.”

“That wouldn’t be enough for you, and you know it, Harry.” Niall mutters.

“It would.” Harry responds quickly, desperately. “It would, Niall. If we could just-”

“It wouldn’t work.” Niall cuts him off. “Are you telling me you could just turn off what you feel? Because it’s not enough to hide it anymore, Harry. It would have to be completely gone for things to ever go back to normal between us. Maybe- Maybe a few months or years from now, when you’ve found somebody else and you don’t feel anything like that for me anymore.”

“I’m not going to find anyone else.” Harry says firmly.

“That’s maybe the most childish thing you’ve said yet.” Niall scoffs, withdrawing his hand from under Harry’s.

“Why do you insist on denying it?” Harry asks harshly. “Why do you want to keep acting like you don’t feel this too? This fucking connection between us is deep and real and important, Niall. I know you feel it. I know you felt it when we kissed.”

“I didn’t feel anything different when I kissed you than with Ash or Eoghan or any of the other guys I’ve ever kissed, Harry.” Niall lies, putting on his best poker face. Truth is, he hasn’t stopped thinking about that kiss. Not even when Ashton came over last night so that Niall could try and even out. “But this, right here, is why things can’t go back. You don’t even really want them to. You just think that you can change this into what you want it to be if I let you back in.”

“No.” Harry whimpers. “Niall, that’s not it.”

“Yes it is.” Niall says with a shake of his head and a hollow laugh. He should have known. “That’s all it’s ever going to be with you, isn’t it? Just you trying to find the limits you can push me to until you manage to manipulate me into giving you exactly what you want.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Harry hisses. “I would never do that to you!”

“You’ve already been doing it, Harry.” Niall says icily, standing up from the table. He takes out his billfold and tosses a few notes on the table to pay for their meals. “I’ve told you that this can’t happen, that it makes me uncomfortable when you keep trying to push your way in, even though I can’t give you what you want, but you keep doing it. You’re so desperate to cling onto this thing that you can’t see it isn’t real. That’s why we can’t go back. You would never really be able to. I’ll text you when I have something lined up to teach you about the job. Until then, just stay the fuck out of my life.”

 

“Is this normal?” Niall asks with a sigh. “Like- I don’t think it is. Am I paying for this?”

“No, you’re not paying for this.” Ashton snorts. “But, no, this also isn’t something I typically do with clients.”

“Does Luke know that that’s what I am?” Niall asks nervously.

“He won’t if you don’t feel comfortable with him knowing.” Ashton says gently. “I talk to him about clients occasionally, but I never use names. Just nicknames.”

“Oh god.” Niall groans. “Do I have one?”

“Sunshine.” Ashton grins. “It was going to be Terminator, but I thought that might be offensive.”

“You’re an idiot.” Niall scoffs. “Why did you invite me here?”

“Because I thought you could use some company and a distraction after you had to go out and see him today.” Ashton answers with a shrug. “But tonight is my night off. I never schedule anything for Monday nights.”

“Can we not mention him tonight?” Niall requests. “I’d really like to forget he exists for a little while.”

“I won’t if you don’t.” Ashton nods. “But something tells me that you will. Luke’s margaritas have a way of making people spill their guts. I’m pretty sure he puts sodium pentothal in them.”

“Then I won’t drink them.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“Trust me, you will.” Ashton chuckles. “If you refuse, he’ll just pout at you, and I’ve never met anyone who could resist his pout.”

“I can resist it.” Niall says flatly.

“Alright.” Ashton hums, an amused smile pulling at his lips. “If you say so.”

“Listen, you may have a giant heart-on for him, but I’m pretty sure I don’t even have a heart.” Niall says with a scowl.

“Oh, love.” Ashton says gently, reaching out and thumbing across Niall’s cheek. “You’re so wrong that it’s heartbreaking. You might be better off if you didn’t have a heart, but you do, and it’s bigger than you know what to do with.”

“I grabbed him today, Ash.” Niall breathes out. “I grabbed him, and I yelled at him, and then I pushed him so hard he almost fell and hurt himself. He was scared of me. That’s not something that someone with a heart does.”

“You have trouble processing emotion, but that doesn’t make you heartless, Niall.” Ashton says softly. “He’s put you in an awful position, and it wasn’t fair of him. That doesn’t justify what you did, because that was wrong no matter what the circumstances were, but it’s not like there’s no explanation for it.”

“Shit.” Niall whispers. “Sorry. I wasn’t supposed to mention him.”

“He matters to you, Niall.” Ashton murmurs. “Whether you want him to or not, he matters, and you don’t need to feel sorry about needing to talk about him. If you want to talk, we can talk.”

“I’m not paying you to deal with my shite tonight.” Niall says with a halfhearted smile. “It’s your night off, and you should have a proper one.”

“I’m your friend, Niall.” Ashton tells him. “You don’t have to pay me to talk to me.”

“I’m still a bit fuzzy on the rules of this thing.” Niall sighs. “This dynamic is- Unique.”

“Think of us as friends with paid benefits.” Ashton giggles.

“You are such a nerd sometimes.” Niall snorts. “How long have you been wanting to use that one?”

“Ages.” Ashton says with a grin. “Just never had a client that I wanted as a friend until you.”

“I will never understand you people.” Niall scoffs.

“Escorts?” Ashton questions.

“People who like me.” Niall corrects. “Like- As a person. Bressie, Liam, Louis, you-”

“Harry.” Ashton adds in unhelpfully.

“Yeah.” Niall mutters. “I’m a dick to all of you.”

“Not all the time.” Ashton hums. “You’re not as bad as you think you are, Niall.”

“Maybe not, but I’m a hell of a lot worse than you all think I am.” Niall says quietly.

“Are you serving food and drinks at that pity party you’re throwing yourself?” Ashton snorts, running his fingers through Niall’s fringe. “I want you to try something tonight, okay? Just- Every time you have a negative thought about yourself, I want you to tell me something positive about yourself instead.”

“You really are trying to be my therapist, aren’t you?” Niall says, rolling his eyes. “My second therapist tried that exercise. It didn’t work then either.”

“Try?” Ashton pouts. “For me?”

“Jaysus.” Niall laughs. “I hope Luke’s pout is more effective than that one is, if you’re going to insist it’ll make me do anything he asks.”

“It is.” Ashton says with a nod, his pout breaking into one of those easy grins he seems to wear near constantly. It’s not quite as bright, can’t light up the room the same way to Niall, but it reminds him of Harry.

“How about a compromise then?” Niall suggests. “I’ll tell you something good about myself every time I think about Harry instead.”

“I can work with that.” Ashton agrees. “So what’s your positive thing?”

“Who says I was thinking about him?” Niall asks back, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Niall.” Ashton scoffs, shooting Niall an unimpressed look. “If you’re going to make a deal, at least be honest about sticking to it.”

“Fine!” Niall huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t see what I’m getting out of this, but whatever. Um- I’m really good at impersonations and accents.”

That doesn’t really help the situation though, because it just sends Niall’s mind back to that day in the café when Niall put on that ridiculous persona. When the relationship he had with Harry was clearly defined, because there weren’t any feelings involved. But it’s also the day that Niall realized Harry was different than other people, that he was purer and kinder than most anyone.

“And I can make some pretty decent latte art.” Niall adds in a mumble.

“That-” Ashton hums. “I have got to see some time.”

“It’s nothing impressive.” Niall waves him off. “Just like- Leaves and hearts and shite like that. Oh, and I can do a dick. But I discovered that by accident.”

“Oh my god!” Ashton cackles.

“I was a barista for a minute and a half.” Niall snorts. “Worst job I’ve ever had, I swear. And I have bagged groceries, worked at a fueling station, and as a telemarketer.”

“But at least you got a useful skill out of that one.” Ashton giggles. “I would pay extra for a latte with a dick on it.”

“The customer who got it wasn’t impressed.” Niall chuckles. “She tried to get me fired, but it really was a mistake. When I told Louis about that one, he said I was sexually repressed.”

“A little.” Ashton nods.

“I’m not repressed.” Niall huffs. “I just don’t have like- A lot of experience. I’ve only been with four guys including you. Two in university, one of which was a one night stand with a friend when we were both drunk, and then- Then there was another bloke. Besides, I thought you said the sex was good.”

“It is.” Ashton hums. “It’s very good. But it’s also fairly vanilla compared to what I’m used to.”

“Your experience is a bit more of a mixed bag than most people.” Niall argues.

“True.” Ashton snorts. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, Niall. I just feel like you hold back sometimes. Like you’re afraid to let me see you. Even once you started taking your shirt off, you still cover yourself up unless it’s dark or you’re on your back or you’re too high to care. You also tend to ask for positions where we can’t see each other’s faces.”

“Do you file this much away about all your clients?” Niall asks defensively.

“Yes.” Ashton says simply. “Because that’s my job. I need to know what you like and what you’re comfortable with. I need to know exactly how far your boundaries go, so that I don’t push you past them in ways that you don’t want to be pushed.”

“And what ways do you think I want to be pushed?” Niall questions.

“I don’t think I’m the one you want pushing them.” Ashton answers after a moment. “And I think we should stop this line of conversation before you get pissed off and storm out of here.”

“You really think you know me so well, don’t you?” Niall sighs.

“I think I know you better than you’d like to admit.” Ashton murmurs, giving Niall’s arm a squeeze.

“Where’s your boy at?” Niall asks, hoping for a change in subject.

“Should be here any minute.” Ashton hums, looking down at his mobile. “I lend him my car on Mondays, so he doesn’t have to take the bus.”

“You let him drive around with all your party favors in there?” Niall asks incredulously.

“God no.” Ashton snorts. “I take them all out. He’s a good driver, but if anything happened, he’d get in a lot of trouble. I’m not letting my job affect his future.”

“Does he know you’re arse over tits for him?” Niall questions.

“I- I don’t know.” Ashton admits with a quick shrug. “It’s not something that we talk about. Right now, we’re just friends, and that’s enough for both of us.”

“Is it?” Niall asks him gently.

Ashton doesn’t get a chance to answer before a key is slipping into the lock and the front door is being thrown open in a flurry of papers, long legs, blond fluff, and a heavily accented voice speaking so quickly that Niall can barely understand it when it says, “Ash, you would not believe the fucking day I’ve had. And, before you ask, the car is fine. But this girl spilled her coffee on my boots five seconds after I walked into my first lecture. My boots, Ash! And she didn’t even apologize. She just said, ‘whoops’ and then went to sit with her friends and I had to sit there for the whole class barefoot while my socks dried out, and- Oh. Hi. You’re new.”

“Luke, this is Niall.” Ashton chuckles, apparently completely unfazed by the lad’s behavior. If anything, he looks fond.

“Niall, hi. Sorry. I’d shake your hand, but-” Luke finishes by shaking his armful of books and papers. Unfortunately, that dislodges the bag that was only barely hanging onto his shoulder, causing it to fall and catch his elbow, which he clearly doesn’t expect. His books and papers go flying as he lurches forward, but Ashton is off of the couch in time to keep him from face-planting into the plush rug on the floor. “Shit!”

“I’ll clean those up.” Ashton hums. “Why don’t you go get changed into something that’ll make you more comfortable, and then get started on making some margaritas? You and Niall have both had rough days, so it sounds like we could all use them.”

“You could tell?” Luke asks quietly.

“You’re clumsier when it happens.” Ashton says with a nod, and Niall wants to ask what they’re talking about, but he decides it’s probably none of his business. “Go on. I’ve got this.”

“Alright.” Luke hums, taking Niall by surprise by leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Ashton’s cheek before practically dancing away with a, “Be back in a few minutes,” thrown over his shoulder.

“Jaysus.” Niall breathes out.

“He’s not normally that – Much.” Ashton snorts, crouching down and starting to organize Luke’s fallen books and papers.

“Is he always that fuckin gorgeous?” Niall asks with a laugh. “Holy shite. He might be the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

“There’s something you should know before Luke gets back out here.” Ashton says quietly. “Luke is gender fluid. Most of the time he’s a boy, but sometimes he’s a girl. I didn’t think it would come up tonight, but it looks like it’s going to, so he’s probably going to come out here looking a bit different than he did. If that’s going to bother you, then you should leave now.”

“Ash, do I really seem like the type to be bothered by that?” Niall asks with a roll of his eyes.

“No, but he’s really sensitive about it, and has trouble around new people because of it.” Ashton explains. “Inviting you here to meet him instead of having you guys meet in a public place is like giving you my stamp of approval that you’re safe for him to be around, because I do trust you, Niall. But I just wanted to give you the chance to leave if it’s going to be something you can’t handle. You can be kind of- Kind of-”

“A dick?” Niall offers. “Not about things like this. Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help it with him.” Ashton mumbles. “He’s had a rough go of it. His brothers- They aren’t the most accepting blokes. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Does he- she- Does Luke always kiss you like that?” Niall asks.

“Normally only when he’s a girl.” Ashton says, his cheeks pinking up with a blush. “He’s very tactile when that happens. And he sticks to male pronouns, by the way, no matter his gender at the time. You don’t have to worry about trying to figure out what to call him.”

“Thanks.” Niall hums in relief now that he knows he won’t fuck that up, bending down and picking up the books that slid across the floor around his feet. “You said he’s a music student, right?”

“Yup.” Ashton beams. “And he’s really, really good, too.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t introduce me to him sooner.” Niall sighs. “I might have been able to get him an internship with Bressie at the recording studio if he’s as good as you say, and you’re not just bragging about him because of the whole ‘arse over tits’ thing.”

“You would have done that?” Ashton asks.

“Why not?” Niall asks back. “He would’ve been a distraction around the office, because those fucking legs and that arse must have been crafted by a kind and loving god, but I never really worked that much anyways and the rest of the boys are straight, but accepting.”

“Niall.” Ashton says lowly, narrowing his eyes.

“Relax.” Niall snorts. “I’m not going to make a move on him. That would just be mean.”

“I mean- I’m not going to say that wouldn’t be incredibly hot to watch, but it wouldn’t work anyways.” Ashton tells him, setting Luke’s papers on the table and then taking the books from Niall and adding them to the pile. “He’s definitely a bottom.”

“I could be a top.” Niall scoffs.

“I offered you the chance to fuck me, and you turned it down.” Ashton reminds him, taking his previous seat on the couch. “You’ve only ever bottomed in all of the times we’ve shagged. Have you ever topped anyone?”

“No.” Niall grumbles. “But I could.”

“Of course you could, babe.” Ashton hums.

“You’re a patronizing cunt sometimes.” Niall sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because I’m hot.” Ashton chuckles, walking his fingers up Niall’s arm. “And I’m charming, and you find me funny. Oh yeah, and I fuck you really, really well.”

“Well, we aren’t fucking tonight, so I don’t have that incentive to put up with your shite either.” Niall huffs.

“I’ll find a way to make it up to you during our next session.” Ashton murmurs in his ear.

Niall wants to ask how Ashton plans on doing that, but he can’t get his mouth working properly before Luke is flying into the room. He’s just- He’s so fucking long. His legs are long and his arms are long and his torso is long and his neck is long and it’s crazy, because he looks even longer in the outfit he’s chosen.

Almost the entirety of his legs are on display, only the very tops of them hidden under a pair of lace knickers that are startlingly smooth in the front. On his top half, he’s wearing a V-neck shirt that opens up down to the center of his chest, a light purple in color that matches his knickers. His lips are shinier than they were when Niall first saw him, and it looks like he’s put on a bit of light makeup other than the lip-gloss.

“Ash, have you seen my polish kit?” Luke asks, looking around the room with his hands on his hips and a pout on his lips. His eyes glance over to Niall, and then he does a double-take, which Niall doesn’t understand since he’s making sure to keep his face as neutral as possible. He furrows his brows and glares at Ashton, asking, “You told him, didn’t you?”

“Your polish is on the counter, where you always put it, even though there’s no good reason for it to be in the kitchen.” Ashton chuckles, ignoring the second question.

“Damn it, Ashton!” Luke whines, stomping his foot. “I wanted to see his reaction! That’s the best part! I love it when the hot guys look all stupid the first time they see me! That’s how I know they want to fuck me!”

“Niall, do you want to fuck Luke?” Ashton asks with a roll of his eyes.

“I- uh- I-” Niall stammers, the question catching him completely off guard.

“There you go.” Ashton snorts, looking back over at Luke. “Satisfied with the stupid face he made?”

“Hey!” Niall squawks at the same time Luke giggles out, “Very.”

He skips out of the room, and Ashton turns to Niall to quietly say, “I’d say you can look, not touch, but I have a feeling that you won’t have much choice in that. The more you react to it, the more he’s going to tease you, though. He’s relentless when he gets to cause a bit of mischief.”

 

“You’re wondering how it got so flat, aren’t you?” Luke hums, smirking at Niall from where he’s perched on the counter, painting his toenails.

“No!” Niall rushes out. “I wasn’t looking- There. I promise.”

“Everyone wonders about it, Niall.” Luke chuckles. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“No, really, I wasn’t looking there.” Niall sighs. “I was just- I’m jealous of your legs.”

“They’re a pain to shave.” Luke says, scrunching up his nose. All Niall can think about is Harry standing in his kitchen, stark naked, asking for a razor so he could shave himself. “And I can never lay on the couch properly because they hang off of the edge. I wish I could just, like- Cut a few inches off them sometimes, you know?”

“Oh Jesus.” Ashton mutters. “Luke- Stop while you’re ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Luke asks confusedly.

“Think he’s referring to this.” Niall chuckles, pulling up the leg on his jeans to reveal Bobby.

“Oh!” Luke squeaks out. “I’m sorry! I- I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t.” Niall snorts, taking a drink off of his margarita. “You’re fine, Luke. Don’t worry about it. Oh, Ashton, I’m remarkably difficult to kill.”

“What?” Luke asks, eyebrows scrunching up even more than before.

“Nothing.” Ashton sighs. “I assume that was for the deal?”

“Yup.” Niall nods, sipping more of his drink. “I’m like an Irish Rasputin. Starve me, dehydrate me, beat me, tie me to a radio tower in a sandstorm, have my bone snap through my leg after having a bacteria eat it for months- I’m basically impossible to kill. Does that count as a good thing?”

“Jesus!” Luke yelps, his eyes going wide.

“Can you please draw back on the torture and gore talk around him?” Ashton groans, rubbing at his temple.

“Sure.” Niall hums.

“You’re already gone on those, aren’t you?” Ashton asks, nodding at Niall’s drink.

“You’re the one who said he’d fuckin pout at me if I didn’t drink it.” Niall huffs. “It’s not my fault they’re like - one-hundred-and-fifty proof. I don’t normally drink, remember?”

“Oh, shit.” Ashton breathes out. “That’s right. That’s enough for you.”

“Your arm will match my leg if you try to take this drink from me.” Niall growls, pulling his glass away protectively. “This is the least stressed out I’ve been in weeks, and it’s delicious, even if I’m pretty sure he made it with petrol with how strong it is. I need this margarita.”

“Ashton likes this really strong tequila.” Luke giggles. “Sierra tequila silver. It actually is one-hundred-fifty proof.”

“So this is your fault.” Niall grins over at Ashton. “And you tried to blame it on Luke.”

“He’s the one who doubles the normal amount of tequila when he makes them.” Ashton huffs.

“You know what this margarita really needs?” Niall chuckles.

“What?” Luke asks flatly, looking a bit offended.

“A refill.” Niall tells him, laughing when Ashton just groans in response.

 

“Let’s play the awful ex game.” Luke hums, throwing his legs over Niall’s lap.

“You don’t want to play that game with me.” Niall scoffs.

“Oh, I really do.” Luke grins. “It’s the only game I always win. Ashton cheats at video games and cards.”

“I do not.” Ashton snorts.

“You do.” Luke smiles, digging his toes into Ashton’s hip. “But I know all your stories, and you can’t beat me at this one.”

“I’m serious, Luke.” Niall sighs. “If you want to keep your winning streak alive, you won’t start this game.”

“Ashton, you go first.” Luke demands, ignoring Niall’s warning.

“My ex cheated on me with our guitar-player because he said he liked the way their voices harmonized when they sang, so he wanted to see how the sex would be.” Ashton grumbles.

“Niall, you can go last, since you’re so sure you have the show-stopper.” Luke says, waving his hand. “My ex found out that I’m gender fluid, and he set my dorm room on fire after tying me to a bike rack in my knickers.”

“That’s shitty.” Niall acquiesces. “Really fucking shitty.”

“Still think you can top it?” Luke smirks.

“My ex got me captured by a terrorist cell, posing as a Syrian rebel group, because he was MI-Six.” Niall starts. “He got eight other people killed before I managed to come up with an escape plan after four months, and then I was shot in the foot, so he abandoned me and let me think he died in the attempt for eighteen months, until he came back from the dead on my doorstep a little over a week ago.”

“Jesus.” Ashton breathes out.

“You win.” Luke says, blanching.

“I told you that you didn’t want to play that game with me.” Niall mutters. “And it’s not like there’s actually a winner or a loser, because what happened to both of you was really shitty too, and it makes it seem like I’m trying to one-up you. I’m not, by the way. I just have a supremely shitty ex.”

Luke doesn’t say anything in response, just sits up, crawls into Niall’s lap, and winds his arms around Niall’s neck, hugging him tightly. It’s awkward, and Niall doesn’t know what to do, so he glances over to Ashton for help. Ashton just nods his approval, so Niall moves his hands up and settles them on Luke’s back, letting himself fall into the comfort.

“You smell really good.” Niall mumbles into Luke’s neck. Honestly, he blames the tequila.

“It’s my lotion.” Luke snorts, leaning back and pressing a light kiss to Niall’s forehead. “It’s plumeria.”

“Can I ask a question?” Niall requests. “It’s not meant to be offensive, but I’m curious.”

“Go ahead.” Luke nods.

“Why do you shave your legs, but not your face?” Niall asks.

“Because, most of the time, I feel like a boy, and I like the way it looks.” Luke answers with a shrug. “I look fourteen without the scruff. It’s really bad.”

“But doesn’t it make you dissociate?” Niall questions.

“Ooh, you actually know what you’re talking about.” Luke giggles.

“You’re not the first gender fluid person I’ve known.” Niall explains. “I used to travel all around the world, and I’ve met a lot of different kinds of people.”

“Well, to answer your question, no, it doesn’t.” Luke smiles. “Not anymore. It used to, but, ever since I moved out of the dorms and started living with Ashton, I’ve been able to express it more fully. I can’t get everything to match how I’m feeling all the time, never could unless they made some technology to let me switch out my bits day to day, but I can get most of it to, and that’s enough to keep me from dissociating.”

“Oh.” is all Niall can think to say in response.

“And, if I ever get too in my head, it helps to rub my legs against each other.” Luke hums. “They’re really smooth. Want to feel?”

And- Jesus- It’s like a rocket back to that moment on the loungers with Harry. His hands shoot up to his own chest, but the phantom sensation of Harry’s skin under his palms makes itself known regardless.

Niall takes a deep breath before turning to Ashton and muttering, “I can play the guitar and piano really well.”

“Really?” Luke asks excitedly, apparently unaffected by the suddenness of the confession.

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “I can play a few other things too, but those are the only two that I can really do anything with. The guitar is the only one I’m actually like- Proficient enough in for Bressie to take me on offering though. But my guitar-work is actually going to be on Olly Murs’ lead single from his new album.”

“You are by far the most interesting person I’ve ever met.” Luke giggles. “I can’t decide if I want to hear you play the guitar, or, like- Make out with you.”

“Go get your guitar.” Ashton scoffs. “We both know that’s what you really want anyways. You’re a music slut.”

“Guilty.” Luke hums, climbing off of Niall’s lap and stumbling towards the hallway. “I can always make out with you after.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Ashton asks. “Playing for him, I mean. The making out thing isn’t going to happen.”

“Jealous he wanted to snog me?” Niall snorts.

“No.” Ashton says casually. “Because you had him in your lap, offering to let you feel his legs, and your mind went straight to Harry. Luke is being a teasing little shit, but you’re barely even noticing the bait, let alone taking it.”

“You have to be really careful with her, because she’s my baby!” Luke calls out, pattering back down the hall excitedly before Niall has to respond. “I’ve had her since I was young.”

“I can tell.” Niall chuckles when Luke hands the guitar off. It’s covered in chipped spots and scratches and stickers, and the sight makes Niall’s lips pull up in a smile that he can’t stop. It reminds him of his old piece, the one his da had given him for his thirteenth birthday. “She’s seen quite a bit, hasn’t she?”

“Yup.” Luke beams. “But don’t let her looks fool you. She still sounds great.”

“I’m sure.” Niall nods. “She tuned?”

“Always.” Luke grins.

“Any requests?” Niall asks, looking between them.

“Nope.” Luke hums. “Just play the first thing that comes to mind.”

Unfortunately for Niall, his fingers seem to have a mind of their own. They pick out a song before Niall can decide on one. The melody is simple, slow and repetitious, which wasn’t at all what he wanted to show. But lyrics are tumbling from his lips before he fully realizes what song has been picked for him by his instincts, and his mind goes fuzzy once it clicks.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in.” Niall sings quietly. “But I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be. Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be. Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can’t help falling in love with you. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

“I love Elvis.” Luke says quietly when Niall presses the guitar back into his hands.

“I’m not really a fan.” Niall mutters, pushing everything down into that box before it can even begin to rise. “Don’t know where that came from. I’m clearly drunker than I thought I would be from a few margaritas. I should go.”

“You can sleep here.” Ashton tells him.

“No.” Niall says quickly, pushing himself off of the couch. “Can’t do that to Conan. I’ve already left him alone for long enough, you know? I’ll catch a cab. I- Thanks for having me over. It was nice meeting you, Luke. I’ll see you around, Ash.”

“Niall, wait-” Ashton calls after him, but the blond is already out the door as fast as he can move. He can’t slow down, can’t look back, because then he’ll have to think about what the fuck just happened, and that is not an option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to announce that, after today, this story will be going back down to only Saturday updates. I've talked about it on my tumblr, and you can find the post about why I'm doing this [here](http://narryhadalittleliam.tumblr.com/post/150328305263/any-chance-youll-spoil-us-a-bit-with-an-early) and I hope everyone understands.


	24. Chapter 24

“What the fuck is this?” Harry asks angrily, looking at the jumpsuit Niall has passed him.

“It’s what the caddies wear here.” Niall tells him. “I had to bribe one to let me borrow this, so try not to rip it or anything.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me to do a job, not making me work for you.” Harry growls.

“Why do you think we’re here, Harry?” Niall asks with a roll of his eyes. “Do you really think we’re here just so you can carry my shite while I golf? Do you think I’d have called you for that?”

“I don’t know what to think, Niall.” Harry huffs. “You texted me this address and a time, and refused to answer any of my calls or texts asking you why.”

“I’ve lined up a donor that I used to play with when I worked at LiveWell.” Niall explains. “He’s who we’re going out on the course with today.”

“Then why would you want him thinking that I’m a caddie?” Harry asks incredulously.

“Because you’re going to hang back silently and watch me today, so you can get some idea of how this is done.” Niall says flatly. “I’m not throwing you into the deep end and risking a potential future large-donor on your first outing. You’ll get an idea of how this is done without having a chance to put your foot in it and scare them off.”

Honestly, it has much more to do with Niall feeling out of practice and a complete fear of what’ll happen if he has to interact with Harry on top of that. After the last time they’d seen each other, after what happened in Ashton’s flat, Niall is more nervous than he knew that he could be. He’d forgotten how it felt not to have medication curbing his anxiety.

It’s fucking horrible.

“Just so I know ahead of time, are you always going to be this much of a wanker to me now, or are you going to stop treating me like rubbish at some point?” Harry sighs, unzipping the jumpsuit.

“Sorry.” Niall mumbles. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve done this, and I thought I’d never have to do it again. I’m just- I’ve been out of the game for a while, and I’m nervous about trying to get back into the swing of things.”

“Well don’t take it out on me.” Harry mutters, shoving one leg through the trousers and then the other. “You can quit any time you want to. Nobody is forcing you to do this.”

“And where will you be then, Harry?” Niall asks icily.

“Not feeling completely shitty about myself all the time.” Harry says, glaring back at him. “Wallowing in anger and self-pity may be your favorite thing to do, but it’s not mine. I’m not interested in spending all of my time being bullied by you. So you need to decide really fucking soon if you’re going to do this or not, because I am done dealing with the way that you treat me. It’s bad enough that you grabbed me, but, this? This is not going to keep fucking happening, Niall. I’m not going to let you keep treating me like this. I’m not going to let you keep making me feel worse and worse about myself every time we interact.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Niall says quietly.

“You can go fu- Wait- What?” Harry asks, his expression going from angry to confused in record time.

“I said that you’re right, and I’m sorry.” Niall repeats. “My nerves are my problem. I shouldn’t be taking them out on you. I know I’ve not been fair to you today, and I’ll try to be better, but I still need you to just hang back and watch for this. It’s not something I can really just talk you through. Observation and then integration is how my da taught me, and that’s how I’m going to teach you.”

“Alright.” Harry says with a short nod. “Just watch it with the way you talk to me.”

“I’ll try.” Niall agrees. Hopefully though, he won’t do much talking at all with Harry over the next few hours.

 

“Your caddie is a bit slow, isn’t he?” Justin snorts, elbowing Niall in the side.

“He’s new.” Niall tells him, sighing as Harry scrambles to catch the balls that have rolled loose after he dropped Niall’s bag. Honestly, it shouldn’t be this cute watching Harry get so flustered. Niall probably should have told him who the donor was ahead of time. Meeting an Olympic gold medalist is bound to make anyone nervous.

“You just picked him because you find him hot, didn’t you?” Justin chuckles.

“No.” Niall says flatly. “He was– Recommended.”

“You say that like I don’t remember your taste in blokes.” Justin laughs. “You always did like the pretty boys.”

“Are we here so you can imply that I want to fuck my caddie, or so we can play golf?” Niall asks, arching his eyebrow in challenge.

“I’m pretty sure we’re here so you can try to shake the change out of my pockets for whatever outfit you’re with now.” Justin smirks. “But, if you want to play and involve money, I say that we make it interesting.”

“Because that’s fair.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not like you just won a gold medal at the Olympics a few months ago or anything.”

“You can never resist a bet.” Justin hums. “Ten-thousand pounds, winner takes all.”

“Fine.” Niall returns casually.

“Niall!” Harry hisses, nearly toppling to the ground when he turns around so fast. “I- I mean- Mister Horan, can I have a word?”

“Gimme a mo’.” Niall tells Justin, walking over to Harry. “What?”

“You haven’t earned any money for the charity yet, and, even if you had, you can’t go gambling it away!” Harry growls. “They don’t have ten-thousand pounds to spare!”

“I’m not betting the charity’s money.” Niall waves him off. “I’m betting my own. I have the money to cover it if I lose.”

“He is apparently one of the best golfers in the world, and you lost to me the last time that you played.” Harry argues. “There’s no ‘if’ in this situation.”

“Never count me out, Harry.” Niall says quietly, turning back to Justin and taking a deep breath.

Despite the bravado, it takes everything he has to keep himself from shaking, because everything depends on today going right, and he’s just royally fucked himself.

 

“Nine-iron.” Niall requests, holding his hand out behind himself while he eyes the fairway. Harry passes him a club, but he can tell immediately from the weight of it that something is wrong. He swings the head around and sighs, “I said nine-iron, Harry. This is my driver.”

“You told me last time that you always like to tee off with your driver.” Harry points out.

“Do you see those trees?” Niall asks, pointing in the distance. “You see how much they’re blowing around? This hole is in a valley, which means my shot is more vulnerable to being blown off-course by that kind of wind. I need the nine-iron because it gives me more control.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to control everything all the time and just let some things happen.” Harry mutters, yanking the club out of Niall’s hand and replacing it with the one he’d asked for.

“I have got ten-thousand quid of my own money on the line for this, Harry.” Niall grunts out. “Maybe you should stop being a brat and let me focus on my game. I’m barely keeping up with Justin, and you acting like this isn’t going to help anything.”

“Excuse me for being a human being, with thoughts and emotions of my own.” Harry scoffs.

“Horan, are you going to take your shot or not?” Justin calls from the cart, obviously ready to get going, since he managed to land on the green from the tee-off.

“No.” Niall decides. “I’m going to have my caddie do it, because he thinks he knows better than me.”

“What?” Harry squeaks out. “Niall- I- That’s-”

“You clearly have a problem, so take it out on the ball until we’re alone again and you can just say it.” Niall mutters. “Picture my face, take your best shot, and remember that this is my savings you’re fucking with here. My money, which I put up. My money, which I’ll lose if this goes tits up from you acting like a twat all day.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles, casting his eyes down to the ground.

“Don’t be sorry, Harry.” Niall says flatly, dropping his club back in the bag. “Be a hell of a shot. Be a ten-thousand quid shot.”

“Oh god.” Harry whines out nervously, plucking the driver from the bag and taking Niall’s spot.

Niall can’t bring himself to watch, instead just grabbing his bag and heading back towards the cart. He flinches at the sound of the club meeting the ball, but doesn’t look back until he sees Justin’s eyebrows shoot off of his forehead and his jaw drop open.

“Holy shite, he’s good for something after all.” Justin breathes out. “I’d let him be mouthy if he helps your game like that.”

Niall turns back to look just in time to watch the ball bounce onto the green, rolling up just a few feet away from Justin’s. A few feet closer to the cup, that is.

“You said he was recommended to you?” Justin asks. “I can see why.”

“Yeah.” Niall says quietly, watching Harry react to his shot like a complete dork, dancing and hollering in a way that would have any real golfer firing any real caddie. “He’s something special, for sure.”

Harry walks back over – struts is more accurate, given the smirk on his face – and says, “I’d call that a ten-thousand quid shot.”

“Did you get some of your hostility out when you pictured my face?” Niall asks, taking the driver and putting it in the bag once Justin drives off.

“I didn’t picture your face.” Harry says, climbing behind the wheel of their own cart. “I pictured Ashton’s.”

He takes off after that, pressing the pedal all the way to the floor and forcing Niall to grip onto his arm just to keep from falling out. Niall lets go as soon as he gets his bearings, but not before Harry’s smirk grows even cockier. Niall wants to wipe it off of his fucking face, but, the problem is, he can’t decide how he’d like to do that.

 

“You count it up.” Niall mutters. “I’ve got to change the battery in my leg before it dies completely. It’s been beeping at me since before we started that last hole.”

“Your leg?” Justin questions, crinkling his brow in confusion.

“Domo arigato, Mister Roboto.” Niall hums, taking a seat in his cart and lifting up his trouser leg to reveal Bobby.

“That’s the best round I’ve ever seen you play, and you mean to tell me you played it with a prosthetic leg?” Justin asks. “You must really not have wanted to lose again.”

“No, I just really believe in this charity, and they need people like you to help them help other people.” Niall tells him, holding down the button to shut Bobby off before opening the cover.

“This isn’t LiveWell, is it? Something about dogs, right? A rescue?” Justin asks. “How did you get involved with that?”

“It’s assistance dog training and partnering.” Niall corrects him, slipping Bobby’s battery out. “And I was a client before I started working for them. They partnered me with the best guy I’ve ever met in my life. Conan. He’s a love.”

“And you didn’t bring him along because?” Justin asks incredulously.

“Because you like to play in fancy clubs that don’t let dogs in.” Niall snorts. “I’d have brought him if I could have. He’d make the sale to you better than I ever could. Nobody can resist his literal puppy-dog eyes.”

“You would have taken me to the cleaner.” Justin laughs.

“Might still have.” Niall smirks. “Go count us up while I get my leg working again.”

“You’re the math genius.” Justin grumbles, walking towards the shade of the patio.

“You did really well.” Harry says from the other side of the cart. “Maybe you won.”

“I lost by six strokes.” Niall sighs, grabbing the spare battery he’s finally gotten from Liam and plugging it into Bobby. “I was keeping track the whole time. I just needed him to go off and count so that I had a minute to pull myself together. This was way closer than I’ve ever gotten to him, which helps a bit, but I still lost. He’s a shite putter, and that’s the only reason I even came close.”

“You played a lot better than the last time I was on a course with you.” Harry points out.

“Not good enough not to fuck this up.” Niall sighs.

“You came within six strokes of a guy who won a gold medal at the Olympics for this, Niall.” Harry murmurs, squeezing the blond’s shoulder lightly. “That’s nothing to sneeze at. You did amazing.”

“I just wanted to get it right, Harry.” Niall says, shrugging his hand off and turning Bobby on after snapping the cover shut. “And it’s not about the money. I don’t give a shit about that. I just- I was supposed to be showing you something, and all I did was fuck everything up again.”

“You showed me you’re willing to fight for this.” Harry says gently. “You showed me that you’re willing to put anything on the line. That’s what this job takes, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods, looking over at Harry.

He expected to find Harry looking back, and that’s exactly what he gets. Harry, with cheeks tinted red from the sun. Harry, with sweat so thick on his brow that his fringe is plastered to it beneath his snapback. Harry, whose eyes look spectacularly green in this light, gazing right back at him. And it’s HarryHarryHarry that almost has Niall leaning in to feel the perfect press of his lips again until he’s startled out of his trance of HarryHarryHarry by a loud call of his name.

“Horan! Get over here and tell me who to make the cheque out to!” Justin yells at him. “You can stare at your pretty caddie later!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Niall scoffs, pushing himself out of his seat as quickly as he can to get away from the spell of HarryHarryHarry. Thankfully, Harry stays behind in the cart instead of following. At least one thing is going right today. “You won, Rosey. We both know that.”

“Actually, you did.” Justin huffs. “And I’m a bit pissed off about it. Your caddie there made the difference, I think.”

“No, I lost by six strokes.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I’m sure of it.”

“Niall-” Justin says, rolling his eyes. “We always play one for one. Every point difference in our handicap is one stroke off for the one with the worse handicap. Mine is lower than yours by seven, according to what you wrote at the top of your sheet before we started playing. You won by one point, which is somehow more irritating than if you’d won by several.”

“No fucking way.” Niall breathes out. “I fucking won?”

“Don’t go rubbing it in.” Justin grumbles. “Just tell me who to write this out for.”

“All Dogs go to Heaven.” Niall says quickly.

“Cute name.” Justin chuckles. “You really believe in these guys?”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for them.” Niall admits quietly. “Conan- He’s the best thing in my life. He gets me through the days I’m not sure I can get through on my own. This charity– It’s made all the difference in the world for me, and it can do that for other people if they can get properly on their feet.”

“That’s all I need to know.” Justin grins, scribbling something out in his cheque-book. “If you guys ever have a gala or a dinner or something, call me up. And I want a rematch one of these days, Horan. No having your caddie take shots for you either. Just you and me, playing for keeps of my dignity.”

“If I win again, I’m taking your medal.” Niall smirks, tucking the cheque in his pocket when Justin hands it over.

“And if I win, I’m taking your caddie.” Justin grins. “He’s got good instincts. The driver was the right choice on that hole. He helped you win, so you should give him one hell of a tip. And ask him out. He stared at your arse like it was dinner every time that you bent over to take a shot.”

“Don’t you have a wife and kids to be getting back to?” Niall grumbles.

“I’ll send your love to Kate.” Justin laughs, grabbing his bag and walking away.

“What happened?” Harry asks, coming up next to Niall with wide eyes.

“I won.” Niall tells him, passing over the cheque. “I forgot about the handicap. I won by one stroke.”

“I thought you were playing for ten-thousand?” Harry asks. “Did you double when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“No. What?” Niall questions, looking down at the cheque. There it is though, a two staring up at Niall where he thought a one would be. Written in the note section is a little sentence, and Niall understands after reading it.

‘If you say it’s worth believing in, then it is.’

 

“Luke?” Niall calls out once he gets the door open. “You still here?”

“In the kitchen!” Luke calls out.

“Thank you so much for doing this.” Niall says once he gets in the kitchen, crouching down to meet Conan, who bounds over to him eagerly. “Were you a good boy for Luke?”

“He’s an angel, I swear.” Luke chuckles, leaning against the counter. “And I don’t mind watching him. Especially when you’re willing to pay for a cab there and back on top of paying me to watch him. Don’t tell Ashton I said this, but I actually hate being alone in that flat.”

“Why?” Niall asks, looking up at the younger lad.

“It just feels like- It feels like a place you live, but not a home.” Luke sighs, shaking his head. “It’s fine when Ash is there, but- I don’t know. It’s not like your house, which I love by the way. It doesn’t feel like a home on its own.”

“So Ash is what makes it home for you.” Niall says knowingly.

“I guess.” Luke mumbles shyly, his cheeks pinking up with a blush. “Can– Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods.

“What’s it like, being with him?” Luke asks quietly.

“We’re not together, Luke.” Niall tells him, trying to keep his voice neutral, despite the spike of panic that shoots through him.

“You’re one of his clients though, right?” Luke questions. “Sunshine?”

“Oh god.” Niall groans, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I’m not judging you, Niall.” Luke says quietly. “I just want to know what it’s like.”

“Luke- You really shouldn’t be asking this kind of thing.” Niall mutters, moving over to the table to sit in a chair because his knee feels wobbly. “Especially if you’re asking for the reason that I think you’re asking.”

“Have you ever met someone who completes you?” Luke asks, taking the seat across from Niall. “Someone who fills in all of the pieces that the world has chipped away? Someone who gets you and understands you and – and makes the world feel like it’s not so fucking awful all the time?”

“Yes.” Niall admits before he can stop himself. And he wants to believe that he’s talking about the way he felt about Eoghan when they met, wants to believe it’s just a resurgence of those feelings from so long ago, so he lets himself.

“That’s what Ashton is for me.” Luke breathes out. “He makes me feel like I matter. He makes me feel like I can do anything. And all the pieces off me that the world doesn’t like- He accepts me for those. But he’s trying to protect me from his job, so he shuts down every attempt I make like they’re nothing. I just- I just want to know. If I can’t ever be with him, then I want to at least know.”

“He helps me forget.” Niall says softly. “When everything is coming down around my ears, he helps me forget about it for a little while. He just has this way of making everything okay for a bit.”

“Are you falling for him?” Luke asks, his voice wavering.

“God no.” Niall snorts. “I mean- He’s amazing, but it’s just not like that. It never could be. He’s just- I think he’s my best friend now, but there’s nothing romantic between us, despite the whole client thing. There never could be.”

“Because of his job?” Luke questions.

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “Because, even if I felt that way for him, which I don’t, his heart would never be in it. Not with me. You- I’m not the one you should be talking this out with, Luke.”

“I’ve tried.” Luke says quietly. “But he always just stops me before I can say anything. He doesn’t want to hear it. He thinks I can’t handle his job.”

“Or, maybe he thinks that you deserve better than being with someone that does what he does.” Niall offers.

“That’s not for him to decide.” Luke mutters. “I should be the one to decide what I deserve. He shouldn’t be able to just choose for both of us without even letting me have a say.”

“Have you considered that he’s afraid, Luke?” Niall asks so quietly he can barely hear himself. “That he’s afraid of hurting you? Because, no matter what you think, he could. He could hurt you, and that’s not something he would be able to come back from.”

“He’s already hurting me, Niall.” Luke mutters, pushing back from the table and standing up. “Every day, it fucking hurts. Not that he’s sleeping with other people, but that I know there’s something between us, that we could be happy together, and he won’t even give me a chance. He wants to protect me so badly that he’d hurt me to do it. So what’s the point?”

“Sometimes- That’s what you have to do for the people you love.” Niall breathes out shakily. “Because a little pain now could save a lot in the long run.”

“Funny, because I’m pretty sure that a broken heart hurts like hell no matter when it happens.” Luke says with a shake of his head. “I need to get back to the flat. I have some work to finish for a class.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall mumbles. “If- If you want me to stop seeing Ash, I will.”

“Don’t.” Luke says gently, placing his hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Like I said, it’s not his job that bothers me. I’m glad he can help you. As much as I’m jealous of you, I actually like you, Niall. Call me if you need me to watch Conan again, yeah? I could always use the extra cash, and I think I’m falling for him.”

“He has that effect on people.” Niall says with a small smile, looking down at where Conan’s head is resting in his lap. “You’ve got classes though. I need to just look into getting a dog sitter.”

“I’m cheaper than any dog sitter, and you can trust me with him, because I’m not a stranger.” Luke points out. “Ashton gave you my number for this, right?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “Sorry if that’s like- Creepy. I actually wanted him to do this, but he had a meeting with a client, and he said I should ask you.”

“Paying an escort to watch your dog is like throwing money away.” Luke snorts. “His hourly prices are outrageous. I’ll text you my class schedule, so if there’s ever anything you need to do in my off-hours, you can have me watch him instead. It should save you some money at least.”

“Ashton’s not going to like you undermining his potential payments.” Niall chuckles, pulling out a wad of bills and passing them over. “All business, he is.”

“Nah, he likes you.” Luke hums. “You’re his favorite client. That’s how I figured out that you’re ‘Sunshine’.”

“The robot leg wasn’t a giveaway?” Niall scoffs.

“He’s never mentioned the leg.” Luke shrugs. “Just a gorgeous bloke who has a nice smile when he lets his guard down enough to let it slip out. And who also has a pretty amazing dog. Inviting you over without ever having mentioned anyone named ‘Niall’ before was the first clue, but Conan was really the tipoff.”

“Do you hate me?” Niall asks.

“No.” Luke chuckles. “I might have hated ‘Sunshine’ sometimes, but I like ‘Niall’.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Niall’s cheek, murmuring, “Niall deserves to be happy,” before walking out of the door to the kitchen, and then the house.


	25. Chapter 25

“You nervous?” Ashton asks, kissing at the back of Niall’s neck.

“No.” Niall mutters. “I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“You’re shaking like a leaf.” Ashton murmurs, wrapping his arms around Niall’s stomach.

“I- It’s been a few weeks, and I’ve started letting Harry interact with donors, but this is the first time he’s going to be doing it by himself.” Niall sighs. “And having you there as my date is probably going to throw him off.”

“Then why did you invite me?” Ashton asks. “Afraid he’ll try and jump you since you look so fucking good in this suit?”

“He asked if he could bring a date, so I doubt it.” Niall scoffs.

“Is that it then?” Ashton questions. “He’s bringing a date, so you’re bringing me?”

“No.” Niall huffs. “These things are just really boring if you don’t have anyone to talk to that you actually know.”

“You know Harry.” Ashton points out.

“And, if everything goes according to plan, he won’t spend almost any time at all with me tonight.” Niall replies. “He’ll be too busy scouting prey to poach. My night will mostly consist of keeping an eye on him and making sure that he doesn’t mess anything up.”

“Then I guess my night will mainly consist of being really charming arm-candy.” Ashton grins. “You know- This is actually kind of rare in my experience, which is funny.”

“What is?” Niall asks.

“I call myself an escort, but I rarely do actual escort-work.” Ashton hums. “I haven’t busted out this suit in ages.”

“That’s a shame.” Niall snorts. “Because you look bloody good in it. Do you want to call Luke before we head down?”

“You’re the one he’s dog-sitting for.” Ashton shrugs.

“And you’re the one that he’d actually like to hear from.” Niall counters.

“I’ve never called Luke while I was on a job.” Ashton tells him. “If I did, he’d probably think something was wrong.”

“Fine.” Niall says, pulling out his mobile. “I’ll just tell him you have nothing to say to him then.”

“He’s going to panic if you call him too, since you went and told him that you’re a client of mine.” Ashton says with a roll of his eyes. “Thanks for that, by the way. That wasn’t super awkward or anything.”

“Is that all he told you?” Niall asks. “That he knows I’m a client? And he figured that out on his own, by the way.”

“Yeah.” Ashton nods. “Why? Is there anything else to tell me?”

“Nope.” Niall says quickly, dialing up Luke on his mobile and turning back towards the mirror to fix his tie.

“Niall? What’s wrong?” Luke asks worriedly, answering after only two rings. “Is it Ashton? Is he hurt?”

“He’s fine.” Niall assures him.

“I told you.” Ashton hums smugly, perching on the end of the bed.

“Oh.” Luke breathes out. “Then why are you calling?”

“Just to make sure that everything is fine on your end. We’re about to head downstairs to the party, so I wanted to check in, because I won’t be looking at my mobile much tonight, and I might not be able to hear it if you text.” Niall explains.

“You already explained all this, Niall.” Luke sighs. “If anything happens, I’ll call the hotel and have them send someone to find you. Your instructions and the numbers that I need to call are hanging on the fridge. You realize that I’m grown, yeah? I can handle watching your dog for the night.”

“I haven’t been away from him for a full night since I got him.” Niall mumbles. “I’m going overboard, aren’t I?”

“A little bit.” Luke chuckles. “He’s a dog, not a baby. Taking care of him is fairly straightforward. Go have fun at your party.”

“It’s not that kind of party.” Niall mutters.

“Ashton will make it fun for you.” Luke laughs. “Besides, I hear there’s going to be a porn star there, so that should liven things up.”

“Gotta go.” Niall says, ringing off and turning on Ashton with a glare. “You told him about Harry?”

“I told him about the porn star who’s obsessed with ‘Sunshine’ and wants to fight me.” Ashton shrugs. “You’re the one who went and told him that you’re Sunshine. Besides, it’s not like I’ve told him who the porn star is, even though Harry isn’t a client and I have no reason to protect his identity.”

“Can you not be hostile towards him tonight?” Niall sighs.

“Depends on whether or not he starts things off by just referring to me as ‘whore’ again.” Ashton grunts out. “I make no guarantees if he does.”

“Jaysus.” Niall mutters, turning back to the mirror. “You lot act like teenagers.”

“Says the one who’s spent the last hour fixing his hair and tie a hundred times like he’s about to see his prom date for the first time.” Ashton scoffs.

“Shut up.” Niall huffs. “I just want to make sure I don’t look so bad that I embarrass myself down there. I’m already starting at a negative with the leg and the glasses.”

“Niall, you look fantastic.” Ashton snorts, climbing off of the bed and approaching him from behind. “Even with your hipster glasses.”

“They’re not hipster glasses.” Niall grumbles. “I actually need these.”

“I’ve never seen you wear them before.” Ashton hums, wrapping one arm around Niall’s waist, and using the other to reach up and play with the arm of Niall’s glasses.

“I usually wear contacts when I know I’m going to be seeing you.” Niall mumbles. “But I ran out, so now I’m stuck looking like a fucking nerd in these things until I get more.”

“A very sexy nerd, though.” Ashton chuckles, pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek. “Think we can fit another shag in before we have to be downstairs?”

“I’m supposed to be meeting Harry in five minutes.” Niall tells him.

“He’s got a date to keep him company. He can wait.” Ashton grins, slipping his hand down to undo Niall’s zip.

And, well, he’s right. So Niall doesn’t stop him.

 

“Oh, good. You’re actually going to show up.” Harry says with a scowl when Niall slides into his place at their table. “I was thinking you’d just decided to throw me in the deep end after all.”

“We’re like - ten minutes late, Harry.” Niall scoffs.

“‘We’?” Harry questions, but it’s proved unnecessary a moment later when Ashton takes the seat next to Niall. Harry goes stiff before glaring at Niall and hissing out, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Ashton smirks.

“You are unbelievable.” Harry scoffs.

“You’ve brought a date, so why shouldn’t he?” Ashton asks casually, taking a drink from the champagne flute that getting had left him to catch up with Niall. “Where is he? I’m dying to meet him.”

“She’s coming now.” Harry mutters, looking towards a girl that’s approaching their table with a glass of champagne clutched in each hand. Niall’s breath catches in his throat, because he realizes how wrong he’d been. It’s been years since he met her, but he’s seen her innumerable times in pictures that Harry had sent him back when they still talked about anything except work. Even if he hadn’t seen her all those times, or ever met her before, he’d recognize her immediately from the resemblance. “Niall, Ashton, meet my sister. Gemma.”

“Oh.” Ashton breathes out. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Gemma greets him with a smile, which obviously only serves to disgruntle Harry, given the scowl he hides in the glass of champagne Gemma handed him. “Long time, no see.”

“Cambodia, right?” Niall asks.

“Yes.” Gemma nods with a laugh. “But I was actually talking to Ashton.”

“You two know each other?” Niall and Harry ask in tandem.

“We do.” Gemma chuckles, taking her seat.

“Gemma came out and saw my band when that was still a thing.” Ashton explains. “She came up after a show and started gushing. It was sweet.”

“And then I spent the whole night flirting with him terribly at the bar before his boyfriend came up and kissed him.” Gemma sighs.

“It wasn’t terrible.” Ashton hums. “You just weren’t my type. Less penis than I typically look for.”

“I’m surprised you remember me.” Gemma giggles.

“It’s hard to forget a girl with neon-pink and dark-purple hair who made a pretty good attempt at an Australian accent.” Ashton snorts.

“Oh my god.” Harry scoffs. “This is too fucking weird. I need another drink.”

He pushes his chair out and storms off without another word, leaving Niall gaping after him.

Gemma starts to follow, but Niall says, “I’ll deal with it.”

“Watch yourself.” Gemma says flatly. God, she looks so much like Harry it’s startling. She gives Niall the same expression that Harry gives Ashton whenever they’re in the same room, and the thought makes his stomach turn.

“I will.” Niall says with a quick nod, climbing out of his chair and following in the direction that he’d seen Harry go. He finds Harry seated at the end of the bar, another drink already in hand, and takes the seat next to him. “So- That’s a weird coincidence.”

“You brought a hooker.” Harry grunts out, not even bothering to look over at Niall.

“I brought a buffer.” Niall counters.

“You brought him.” Harry mutters. “Did it have to be him, of all people? Couldn’t it be anyone else?”

“I don’t have anyone else, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “Ashton is pretty much my only friend.”

“Then why did you have to bring anyone?” Harry asks weakly.

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“Why, Niall?” Harry asks, looking over at him.

“Because I didn’t want to be alone once you asked to bring a date.” Niall admits. “I thought- I thought if you were seeing someone, then seeing me with Ashton would just kind of- I don’t know. Help?”

“You thought it would push me into someone else’s arms?” Harry asks incredulously. “Really?”

“I hoped.” Niall says softly.

“All it’s done is piss me off, Niall.” Harry mutters. “All it’s done is take a night that I was already so nervous about that I needed my big sister here to support me, and made it that much worse.”

“Hey, there’s no reason to be nervous.” Niall tells him. “You’ve been doing well with the donors so far.”

“That’s not what I’m nervous about, Niall.” Harry scoffs. “I could charm everyone in this room without a second thought. It’s you. It’s that, if we hadn’t brought them, tonight would be the first time it would have really been just us since- Since the kiss. We’ve not been alone for more than a little bit at a time since then. There’s always someone else around to keep that from happening.”

“There’s a ballroom full of people in here, Harry.” Niall points out.

“And, yet, the only one I can see is you.” Harry murmurs, turning fully towards Niall. “You’re the only thing ever worth seeing, to me.”

“Harry-” Niall breathes out.

“Go to the loo and fix yourself up and I’ll meet you at the table.” Harry says, climbing out of his seat. “Your hair is mussed and you missed two of your buttons trying to put your clothes on so fast after you two fucked. You could have at least tried to hide it. If not for my sake, then for your own. Anyone here who looks at you will be able to tell what you’ve been up to.”

 

“How’s he doing now?” Ashton asks.

Niall only half-hears the question through the tight ball of nausea settled in his stomach from watching Harry laugh at some bloke’s joke. It was probably fucking stupid, if Niall’s experience with donors is anything to go by, but there he is- Neck thrown back and hand on the guy’s arm as he cackles loud enough for the whole room to echo with the sound of it.

“How’s who doing what?” Niall asks absentmindedly.

“How is Harry doing?” Ashton asks, waving his hand in front of Niall’s face. Honestly, Niall is glad for it. He would have been sick if he’d kept watching any longer.

“Fine.” Niall mutters before throwing back his whole glass of champagne in one go. “Better than fine, actually. He’s charming all their fucking pants off.”

“Maybe you should slow down.” Ashton murmurs in Niall’s ear. “That’s your fourth drink.”

“It’s champagne.” Niall scoffs. “I can barely feel it.”

“Niall, do you want to talk about it?” Ashton asks gently.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Ash.” Niall says sharply.

“Alright. Fine.” Ashton sighs. “I’m going to head to the loo. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Mind grabbing me another on your way back?” Niall requests.

“Sure.” Ashton says quietly, getting out of his seat and walking away.

Niall isn’t alone for long, though. Only a few moments after Ashton has disappeared into the crowd, Gemma is breaking away from Harry’s side and heading straight for Niall. It’s funny how a girl that Niall only knows as being bouncy and energetic and sweet can look so fucking intimidating when her eyes are locked on you like they are with him.

Guess the thousand words that a picture is worth don’t tell everything there is to know about a person.

“You and I are going to talk now that your guard dog has gone.” Gemma says flatly, taking the seat next to Niall. “You’re lucky that we’re in public, or this would be a much louder and angrier conversation.”

“You seem pretty angry already.” Niall says with a shrug, settling back against his chair.

“You haven’t seen anything, Horan.” Gemma says fiercely. God, these two really do look alike when they’re pissed off.

“Is that so?” Niall chuckles humorlessly.

“No.” Gemma growls. “Because you’ve hurt my baby brother, and now you get to deal with me.”

“Please, then, do go on.” Niall snorts. “Tell me what you know.”

“I know that I’ve never seen Harry cry until you came along.” Gemma says quietly. “When our father left- When our mother and step-father kicked him out- When his whole life came crashing down because of that stupid tape- He’s never cried in front of me. He’s always tried to keep on a brave face around me, because he thinks that he needs to protect me, since he’s my brother, even though he’s younger. I could always tell when he was hurt, but he never, ever cried in front of me. Then you fucking broke him.

“Now a day doesn’t go by where he doesn’t cry. Now he spends every second miserable, because he wants to be with you so badly, but you’ve cut him out of your life like a disease. Because you’ve made him feel dirty and unlovable for what he did in his past. You are destroying him, and, the worst part is, you don’t even care.”

“I don’t care?” Niall asks breathlessly, feeling like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “That’s what you think?”

“That’s what I know.” Gemma snarls.

“You don’t know a fucking thing.” Niall spits out. “I’ve done all of this because I care about him so much.”

“You don’t hurt the people that you care about like you have with Harry.” Gemma says adamantly.

“Did he tell you that they used to hold my head up and make me watch in the mirror while they lashed my back open or literally drilled into me?” Niall asks harshly. “Did he tell you that they beat and raped and tortured and killed my friends in front of me? Did he tell you that I slit a kid’s throat, and that I can still feel the blood on my hands when I think about it? Did he tell you that I’ve been arrested twice in the last two years for assault?”

“I- You- No, he- No.” Gemma stammers, eyes going from angry slits to wide open circles filled with horror.

“Because he doesn’t know all of that. There is a monster inside of me, Gemma.” Niall spits out. “They scooped out every bit of the version of me that you met in Cambodia, and they filled me with hate and pain and rage. What I’ve done with Harry – The way that I’ve been pushing him away – That’s because he can’t see it. He can’t look away from the tiny bit of myself that I’ve held onto, and see that I’m dangerous. It may hurt him now, but he’ll be better in the long run when I’m out of his life. Pushing him away is the only way I can protect him from myself.

“I’ve not done all of this because I don’t want him in my life. I’ve done it because I am so fucking scared of what I could do to him. I have been through levels of hell that you can’t even imagine, and they will always be inside of me. If he’s around me, they’ll taint him. They’ll take away all of that purity and light that he’s fucking bursting with. I – I never want him to lose that. I want him to be happy. I want him to have everything he deserves, and I can never be that.

“So don’t you dare say that I don’t fucking care. I care more than you can even know. I care enough to know that being with me is the wrong thing for him if he ever wants to be happy. I care enough to push him away, even though it’s fucking killing me to do it. I care enough to know that what he’s feeling now will pass, and it’s worth it to save him in the end. If I do nothing else that matters with the rest of my life, at least I’ll have saved him from myself.”

“You love him.” Gemma breathes out.

“No.” Niall mutters, pulling his mobile out of his pocket when it rings. He worries for a brief moment that it’s Luke, calling to tell him that something is wrong with Conan, but relaxes when he sees that it’s someone else instead. “Monsters can’t love people, Gemma. We can only destroy them. I need to get this. Excuse me.”

He stands up from the table and walks away, holding his mobile up to his ear and asking, “What?”

“I need you to meet me in the loo.” Ashton says quietly. “Outside of the ballroom, take a left and follow the corridor all the way to the end. Nobody from the party has drifted this far away yet.”

He rings off before Niall gets a chance to ask what the fuck is going on. If he’s calling because he thinks now is the time for a shag, Niall is going to lose his already strained grip on his sanity.

He follows Ashton’s instructions, and almost falls on his face when Ashton pulls him into the room. He barely manages to stay upright, even with Ashton’s grip on his arm.

Ashton locks the door to the loo and then, before Niall can get a word out, says, “I need to leave.”

“Why?” Niall asks. “Are you sick? Is something wrong?”

“One of my former clients is out there.” Ashton sighs.

“Did- Did he hurt you?” Niall asks carefully.

“No.” Ashton says, shaking his head. “I decided to break things off for personal reasons.”

“Ashton, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Niall questions.

“If he sees me with you, then he’ll know that you’ve hired me, Niall.” Ashton mumbles. “It’ll ruin your reputation. He will ruin your reputation. I can’t be responsible for that.”

“If he’s a client, then he can’t do that without people knowing that he’s one too.” Niall points out.

“He’d find a way.” Ashton mutters. “You know what this town is like, Niall. You know how people take a rumor of a scandal and turn it into something huge. It would risk everything that you’re doing if I stay here with you. I can wait up in your room if you want me to, but I can’t go back in there with you.”

“No, you can go.” Niall sighs. “I don’t know how long we’ll be here. No point in making you wait around for that.”

“Here.” Ashton says, pulling a wad of notes out of his pocket and holding them out. “Since I’m the one breaking the date, you should have this back.”

“No.” Niall says firmly, pushing them back towards Ashton. “You don’t give money back. No refunds.”

“I don’t generally abandon clients either.” Ashton argues. “Niall, I can’t take this if I leave.”

“Then- Then go back to my place, and keep Luke company.” Niall offers. “Watch my dog and consider that the payment.”

“Niall-” Ashton scoffs.

“I’m serious, Ashton.” Niall says firmly. “We had sex twice. You’ve been with me for three hours. I can’t not pay you for that. Especially when tonight isn’t our normally scheduled night.”

“Niall-” Ashton tries again.

“I have to be a client when we do this, Ashton.” Niall says quietly. “Because- Because otherwise, it’s not fair to Luke or you. Sleeping with me when I’m not paying you is crossing a line that we can’t cross. I need this relationship to stay exactly where it is, because you’re the only person in my life that I can be myself with anymore.”

“Alright.” Ashton nods after a moment. “I’ll go back to yours and watch Conan with Luke.”

“Thank you.” Niall mumbles. “Just don’t shag him in my da’s bed, okay?”

“Shut up.” Ashton scoffs, feigning offense. His cheeks light up and give him away, though.

“I’m serious.” Niall grins. “He never had sex in that bed, so nobody else should either. It’s just unfair.”

“You’re the worst.” Ashton grumbles, looping his arms around Niall’s neck and pulling him in for a hug. “I’m sorry that I have to leave. Are you going to be alright?”

“I can handle more than everyone in that room can throw at me.” Niall sighs, wrapping his arms around Ashton’s lower back and letting himself breathe in the familiar comfort of this. He lets it give him the strength he’s only pretending to have.

“It’s not everyone that I’m worried about.” Ashton murmurs into Niall’s fringe. “It’s just one of them, and he has a way of getting to you. He has a way of making you cry, and I hate that.”

“Well he’s been steering pretty clear of me since our talk, so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Niall mutters, pulling away.

“Call me if you want me to come back.” Ashton says gently. “I’ll meet you in your hotel room if you need me to.”

“I’ll be fine.” Niall says with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to worry about me, Ash.”

“I’m going to worry about you.” Ashton says, rolling his eyes hard. “Because you’re my friend, and you’re already in pain, but you’re about to risk more. If you have any problems, then I want you to call me. Even if it’s just to have me come pick you up. If you’re insisting on still paying, I can at least play chauffeur for you.”

“Fine.” Niall snorts. He doesn’t plan on calling, though. If Niall really needs to get out of there, he’ll just go upstairs and lock himself in the room. A ride in the morning might not be the worst idea, though. He hates cabs.

“Let’s get you out of here and back in there before something goes wrong or somebody notices you’re missing, yeah?” Ashton hums, opening the door. “Harry will lose it if he thinks you’ve abandoned him in there just to shag me.”

“Pretty sure it’s Gemma who’ll kick my arse.” Niall shrugs, following Ashton out.

“It’s not your ass I’m worried about getting kicked.” Ashton laughs.

“Oh thanks.” Niall scoffs.

“Hey, my ass is very important to me. I’ve got to make a living somehow.” Ashton grins. “We should go our separate ways here, just in case.”

“See you later.” Niall nods.

He turns and starts walking towards the ballroom again, but stops when he hears Ashton call out, “Tell Harry that ‘he’ is here. He’ll know what that means.”

Before Niall can turn back and ask so that he knows what the hell that cryptic shit means, Ashton is already heading through a door that’ll lead him to the garage.

God, he’s fucking weird sometimes.

 

“Where’s Ashton?” Harry asks, slipping into the seat next to Niall.

“He left.” Niall mutters.

“When?” Harry asks. “Why?”

“Like an hour ago.” Niall answers. “A little while before Gemma did. And he left because he ran into a client, and he didn’t want to risk ruining my reputation by being seen with me by someone who knows what he does.”

“So you’ve just been sitting here alone this whole time?” Harry questions.

“I’ve chatted up some people for donations.” Niall tells him. “But, yeah, I’ve mostly just been sitting back and watching to see how you’ve been doing.”

“And?” Harry asks.

“And there’s a reason that I did this instead of my father, remember?” Niall asks back. “Lay off on the flirting, or people won’t take you seriously.”

“I’ve made us one-hundred-and-thirty-thousand quid so far.” Harry smirks, pulling a stack of cheques out of his pocket and slapping them down in front of Niall. “Not bad for someone that they don’t take seriously.”

“Not bad for an amateur.” Niall corrects him, taking out his own stack. “One-hundred-and-fifty thousand in the past hour. And that’s from nine people. How many for you?”

“Fourteen.” Harry sighs.

“Then get back out there and see if you can get to twenty by the end of the night.” Niall waves him off, taking both stacks and tucking them into his pocket. “If we can get to four-hundred-thousand by the end of the night, I’ll consider tonight a success.”

“Seriously?” Harry groans.

“That’s only eight percent of our total goal, Harry.” Niall points out. “A party like this, with donors like these- We should easily be able to walk away with that much. This whole event is thrown for people like us to court donors. A few years ago, I would have walked away with over a half-million pounds by the end of the night by myself.”

“Then why aren’t you doing more?” Harry asks.

“Because this isn’t about me.” Niall says quietly. “This is about making sure that, when the goal is reached, you’re ready to be what I was. You need to be able to make that half-million pounds without my help when it’s over. If I go out there and do all the work, then you might not be ready when that time comes, and they need you to be. This job fucking sucks sometimes, but it’s the best way to make sure that the cause you believe in can stay afloat to make the differences that it needs to make.”

“What if I’m not?” Harry asks weakly. “What if I’m not ready by the time the money is raised?”

“You’ll have to be.” Niall tells him. “But you’re not going to get there by sitting around here talking to me. Go mingle. Bring in the money, but don’t forget-”

“Connections are as important as cash.” Harry drawls out, getting out of his seat. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Oh, wait-” Niall sighs. “Ashton wanted me to tell you ‘he is here.’”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Harry scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, that’s literally what he said.” Niall explains. “He said ‘tell Harry that ‘he’ is here’, and that you’d know what he meant by that.”

“I haven’t got a clue.” Harry shrugs before walking away.

Oh well. Ashton shouldn’t have been so fucking vague and cryptic if he actually wanted to warn Harry about something.

 

“You are Niall Horan.” some random fucking bloke says, taking a seat across from the blond. Niall looks over at him, racking his brain for the list of all the people he’s ever spoken to in this line of work, but none of them match this guy.

He’s younger than most of the donors here, maybe mid-thirties. He’s loaded, though. Niall can tell just from looking at him. He has all the swagger and smugness of a young-ish millionaire. It’s why he thinks he can get away with that hideously sparse bit of facial hair that he probably thinks is rugged scruff, and that smirk that makes Niall’s stomach heave just from looking at it.

“I have heard a lot about you tonight.” the guy continues. “You used to work for LiveWell, which worked to provide water sources in third-world countries, along with vaccinations. It was ran by your father until you and several others mysteriously disappeared, after which he sold the charity to the Pepsi corporation’s charity arm, a group he had been rebuffing for at least two years, and spent all of that money hiring mercenary groups to find you. Now you’re back, and working, not with LiveWell, despite a standing offer from Pepsi to run the entire thing, but with a charity that focuses on raising assistance dogs. A cause which became dear to you after you, yourself, were a client. Did I get all that right?”

“More or less.” Niall says calmly. He’s used to these kind of intimidation tactics. Some donors love reminding people like him that they’re powerful. That they’re worth courting. “I’m afraid I don’t even know your name, though.”

“My name is unimportant to you.” He says with a shrug. “After tonight, we’ll never see each other again. I just wanted to size you up before I handed this over.”

He places a cheque face down on the table between them, but Niall doesn’t reach for it.

“Most people wait until after they’ve heard a pitch to donate.” Niall hums.

“I have my own reasons for doing this.” he shrugs. “All I ask in return for this, is that you deliver a message to Harry for me.”

“He’s here somewhere.” Niall replies, crinkling his eyebrows in confusion. “You could just tell him yourself.”

“I can’t do that, I’m afraid.” he says quietly. “He won’t hear it from me. I’ve observed how he looks at you, though, and that tells me that he might hear it from you.”

“And what is this message exactly?” Niall questions.

“Just tell him that I’m sorry.” he says, standing up from his seat and buttoning the jacket of his suit. “I didn’t do right by him, and I’m sorry for that.”

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Niall asks. “The one from the sex-tape.”

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Horan.” he says quickly, walking away from the table.

Niall watches as he crosses the room, meeting up with a petite brunette woman who hands him a coat before they leave together. No sooner have they stepped out of the ballroom than a hand is gripping tight on Niall’s shoulder and turning him to be face to face with a very pissed off looking Harry.

“What did he say to you?” Harry growls out.

“He wanted me to deliver a message to you in exchange for the cheque he put on the table.” Niall answers.

“Why?” Harry asks angrily.

“Because he said you might hear it from me, but you wouldn’t from him.” Niall explains. “Do you want to hear what he wanted me to tell you?”

“I already know.” Harry mutters, sitting down next to Niall. “He’s ‘sorry’, right? He didn’t do right by me and he’s sorry?”

“Word for word.” Niall nods. “Not the first time he’s tried this?”

“Each of the boys in the house and some members of the crew that shot us.” Harry mumbles. “I never thought he’d try this, though. I never thought he’d try to use someone that- Someone that I love to try and do this to me. The bribing thing isn’t surprising, because he’s done that before, but- But picking someone who really matters to me to keep trying to play this game with my head- That pisses me off.”

“What do you want to do?” Niall questions.

“Tear it up.” Harry whispers. “I don’t care how much it is. I’ll replace it out of my own pocket if you want. Just- just please tear it up.”

Niall reaches across the table without hesitating, grabbing the slip of paper and saying, “I’ll do you one better,” before he holds it over the candle in the center of the table and then drops it on his empty plate.

Harry snorts out a laugh before he grabs a glass of water and douses the flame, giggling, “You’re going to get us kicked out of here.”

“Everybody is too focused on getting or giving money to notice me burning a little.” Niall says with a shrug.

“How much did you just burn?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know.” Niall admits. “I didn’t look at it. Doesn’t matter to me. We’ll find other ways.”

“Thank you.” Harry says softly.

“He didn’t answer when I asked, but is he-” Niall starts.

“Yes.” Harry cuts him off. “He’s my version of Eoghan. He’s the one from the tape.”

“Then there’s nothing to thank me for.” Niall tells him. “Personally, I’d have liked to have seen you get a few good hits on him like I got to with Eoghan.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.” Harry shrugs. “I just don’t want him having any part in my life any more. I don’t need his apology or his money, because I stopped hating him a long time ago. I haven’t forgiven him – probably won’t, honestly – but I don’t hate him anymore, and I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You’re a better man than I am.” Niall mutters.

“No, I’ve just lived with the way things happened for a lot longer than you have.” Harry murmurs, gripping Niall’s knee. “It took me years to get past it, and the only thing I lost was my career.”

“What do you say we call it a night?” Niall asks.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Harry nods. “I- I’m not really in the right headspace for this anymore.”

“Do you need them to call you a cab?” Niall questions.

“I got a room here for tonight.” Harry says, shaking his head. “Didn’t know how late or drunk I’d be, so I thought I’d play it safe this time.”

“That was probably a good idea.” Niall hums, lifting himself up out of his chair. “A cab back to Oxford would be insanely expensive.”

“I’m a millionaire, Niall.” Harry chuckles. “Remember?”

“It’s hard to remember when half of your clothes look like you got them from a thrift shop.” Niall snorts, heading towards the exit to the ballroom.

“That’s really rude.” Harry pouts, following behind him as they head for the bank of lifts.

“Harry, nobody looks good in a Hawaiian shirt.” Niall scoffs, pressing the button to call a lift. The door slides open, and Niall presses the button for his own floor before looking to Harry and asking, “What floor?”

“Same as you, apparently. Twelfth floor.” Harry answers. “You really think my shirts are ugly?”

“The Hawaiian ones, yeah.” Niall laughs. “Absolutely hideous.”

“And what about this?” Harry asks, gesturing towards his suit as he steps closer to Niall. “How do I look in this?”

“It- It’s a significant improvement.” Niall admits, feeling his chest go tight. 

‘Significant improvement’ doesn’t really cover it, honestly. Harry looks like a fucking demigod in his all-black suit, tight on his hips and exaggerating the broadness of his shoulders, all the while begging you to make a faustian bargain with the way the fabric covers him and makes him look like he’s wearing nothing more than shadows that are clinging to him out of pure desire to touch his body.

“On a scale from one to ten?” Harry hums.

“Eleven.” Niall mumbles.

“Charmer.” Harry grins.

“You just like hearing that you’re gorgeous.” Niall scoffs, trying to diffuse some of the tension that’s building with every foot they climb.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Harry smirks.

“Shut up.” Niall huffs, going for authoritative, but missing it by a mile if the heat rising in his cheeks is indicative of the blush he’s pretty sure is settling there. “Anyone with functional eyes knows you’re attractive, Harry.”

“Then how do you know?” Harry giggles, reaching up and grasping the back of Niall’s neck to wiggle his glasses. His hand doesn’t remove itself though, instead curling into the hair underneath his fingers. “You’re nearly blind without your cute nerd glasses.”

The doors to the lift slide open as they finally – blessedly – arrive on their floor, but Harry doesn’t move.

“Harry-” Niall breathes out, gulping before he says, “I’m more than a bit claustrophobic, and so I’d really like to get out of this lift.”

“Of course.” Harry nods, stepping away and letting Niall breathe properly again.

“How much did you make after you left the table?” Niall asks, hoping for something simple to talk about until he gets to his room. Getting the one at the end of the hall was a mistake, even if it did provide the best view to keep him from feeling trapped when he’s somewhere so unfamiliar.

“Just another seventy.” Harry sighs, pulling a stack of cheques out of his pocket and handing them over. “Which isn’t enough to meet what you wanted for the night.”

“It’s fine.” Niall tells him. “It was a good first run for you.”

“I looked at the cheque before we walked away from the table.” Harry mumbles, stopping in front of a door. “I couldn’t make out the numbers for sure, but it was definitely in the six-figure range. It would have put us well over your goal. It would have gotten you a lot closer to being able to walk away.”

“No amount of money would be worth the way it would have made you feel to take that cheque, Harry.” Niall says softly. “And, yeah, sometimes- Sometimes you have to compromise on what you thought you were willing to endure for this job. Sometimes you have to put up with wretched people who want to degrade you and make you feel less than them for needing to beg for the things they have to offer, and it’s worth it for the greater good. Taking that cheque wouldn’t have been one of those times though. Nothing would be worth you hurting like that.”

“Thank you.” Harry whispers.

“I told you-” Niall shrugs. “There’s nothing to thank me for. Get some good sleep. You deserve it. You did really well tonight.”

“Even though I didn’t get to your goal?” Harry asks.

“Let me tell you a secret.” Niall says with a slight smile. “First time I went to one of these parties, when my da was training me, I made way less than you did tonight.”

“Really?” Harry questions, his eyes going wide.

“Twenty-five-thousand quid.” Niall says with a grimace.

“That’s pretty close, though.” Harry hums.

“No, not twenty-five-thousand less than you.” Niall grumbles. “Twenty-five-thousand total.”

“Oh my god.” Harry snorts.

“Yeah.” Niall sighs. “I set a goal tonight, Harry, but I never expected you to reach it on your own. Not really. Not on your first venture. You blew away my actual expectations for you. I would have been beyond thrilled if you’d only gotten seventy-five-thousand.”

“Then why did you say that my hundred-and-thirty-thousand was only good for an amateur?” Harry pouts.

“Because I was insanely jealous.” Niall huffs.

“I’ve had a really good teacher.” Harry says shyly, kicking his toe against the ground.

“Gotta make sure you can hold your own against the wolves out there.” Niall chuckles. “You haven’t got my staggering good looks, profound levels of charm, or the potential for sympathy available for a robot leg. You’re at a complete disadvantage, really. I’d have to be nothing short of an extraordinary teacher to get you ready.”

“Extraordinary it is.” Harry grins.

“Now your extraordinary teacher needs to finish walking the rest of this hiking trail that they call a hallway, because they put the ATKL amputee in the room at the end of the hall.” Niall hums. “If I get started now, I might make it before midnight.”

“Could pick you up and carry you down there.” Harry smirks. “Like the bus stop all over again. I know how pleased you were about that time.”

“Hilarious.” Niall says flatly. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Niall.” Harry mumbles, his smile falling off of his face as he roots around for his card-key to let himself into his room.

Niall turns and starts the rest of the trek to his room, pulling out his mobile to call Ashton. He reaches the door before he makes the call though, and he’s glad for it, because he knows that he wouldn’t be able to hide the way his breath hitches in his throat when he sees Harry still watching him from down the hall.

 

“He was your client, wasn’t he?” Niall asks quietly once he’s through inquiring about Conan and Luke and filling Ashton in on the night’s events. He strips off his jacket, laying it over the back of a chair, and then starts unbuttoning his shirt. “The one that you ran into and had to leave because of? That’s what you were trying to warn Harry about?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Niall.” Ashton mumbles after a long pause. Regardless of the fact that he doesn’t confirm it, the answer is clear as day.

“Jaysus, Ash.” Niall breathes out. He drops his shirt over his jacket, and then takes a seat to begin fiddling with his shoelaces.

“I broke things off with a client after I met Harry, though.” Ashton says, stressing the ‘a’ to keep some semblance of professional integrity. “Because I couldn’t keep up that relationship without feeling guilty. Despite the fact that he’s an ass, and that he makes you cry, I don’t actually hate Harry. He deserved better than what happened to him. I couldn’t look at that as something objective anymore. It became real instead of just a news story.”

“God.” Niall sighs, slipping off his shoes. “Ash- Fuck. I can’t- I can’t be your client anymore.”

“Why not?” Ashton asks weakly, though it sounds like he already knows the answer.

“Because it would kill him if he ever found out.” Niall mutters, carefully maneuvering his trousers off of his real leg, and then Bobby. “You didn’t see Harry afterwards, Ash. He was trying so hard to hide it, but just seeing him- It hurt Harry really fucking badly.”

“Can we still be friends?” Ashton asks after a moment.

“Yeah.” Niall tells him. “Yeah, of course we can. I don’t want to not be friends with you or Luke, Ash. I just can’t keep sleeping with you when I know you’ve been with him.”

“Is that because he hurt Harry, or because they used to be lovers?” Ashton asks quietly.

“I- Good night, Ashton.” Niall sighs before ringing off.

As if on cue, someone decides that now is the time to fuck with Niall. Now, when he’s tipsy, and feeling things he doesn’t want to be feeling, and when he just wants to crawl into bed and leave this awful fucking night in the past.

So he shouts, “Read the sign! Do not disturb!”

Of course, nobody ever listens to Niall, so the knocking sounds again when Niall is halfway to the bed. And- Well- Niall can only be pushed so far on a night like tonight.

So it doesn’t matter that he’s nearly naked and his leg and scars are exposed when he wrenches the door open and yells, “What?”

Harry flinches back from the suddenness of it, and that moment gives Niall time to take him in. He’s changed from his suit into a soft pair of joggers and a shirt that Niall is pretty sure both belong to him, if just because of the size. His hair is a mess, like his hands have been run through it over and over again, but that just matches the red rings and tear stains around his eyes that show he’s been crying since Niall saw him fifteen minutes ago.

“Shit.” Niall breathes out. “Sorry, Harry. I didn’t know it was you.”

“I called through the door, but they’re kind of thick.” Harry mumbles, ducking his head. “Were you asleep?”

“I was just getting into bed.” Niall tells him.

“Sorry. Shit! Sorry.” Harry hisses, turning away from the door. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Harry-” Niall says gently, catching his wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Harry says quietly, trying to tug his hand away from Niall’s. Niall doesn’t let go though.

“Harry, tell me what’s wrong.” Niall requests, pulling him back around.

“I just don’t want to be alone right now.” Harry whispers.

And Niall knows it’s a mistake before it ever leaves his lips. He knows that he shouldn’t – can’t – do it, because it’s just going to make things harder in the long run. But Harry just- He looks so fucking defeated. His shoulders are sagging and his free arm is wrapped tight around his stomach and his eyes haven’t looked up from the floor almost the entire time he’s been here.

So Niall murmurs, “Come in.”


	26. Chapter 26

“Who’s watching Conan tonight?” Harry asks from across the bed, glancing over at Niall.

“Um- Ashton’s roommate.” Niall admits. “And Ashton, actually.”

“Of course.” Harry scoffs. “What kind of fucked up relationship are you two in?”

“We’re just friends now.” Niall mumbles, looking at Harry and sighing at the frown his lips are curved down into. “I ended my relationship as his client right before you got here.”

“What?” Harry asks, eyes widening and catching the moonlight perfectly when he fully turns to look at the blond. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Niall mutters, rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling instead of letting his eyes linger on Harry any longer than they already have.

“It does to me.” Harry says quietly. “What happened?”

“Harry, please.” Niall begs in a whisper. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

“Niall, what happened?” Harry asks, more urgently this time.

“He’s one of Ashton’s former clients.” Niall breathes out.

“Fucking Christ!” Harry snaps, sitting up off of the bed. “Is he just somehow fucking connected to everyone in my life? It wasn’t enough that he and Gemma know each other, or- Or that he’s been with you? They really have to have been together too? Did he fuck my parents as well? My solicitor, maybe? The bird who trims my hair?”

“Ashton broke it off, Harry.” Niall says gently, trying to calm him down. “After he met you, Ashton broke it off.”

“Why?” Harry scoffs.

“Because Ashton doesn’t hate you, and being with him made Ash feel guilty.” Niall explains. “He said he couldn’t keep it going once he actually knew you, because what you had been through wasn’t just this objective thing anymore. You weren’t just some random celebrity who got their heart broken and their career ruined. You were real to him then.”

“I don’t need your whore’s pity.” Harry spits out. “Go back to him if you want. I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “You care.”

“I’ve always cared, Niall!” Harry snaps. “What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is that I know Ash has been with him.” Niall says firmly. “I didn’t know before tonight, Harry. I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t hurt you that way.”

“It’s been hurting me the whole time you’ve been together, Niall.” Harry says with a glare. “Again- What’s the fucking difference? Why does the two of them being together change anything for you? Why does it matter to you that it’s him?”

“I don’t know.” Niall mutters. “It just does.”

“Is it because he hurt me?” Harry asks. “Or is it because I thought I was in love with him?”

And- Jesus- Harry and Ashton must have some kind of metaphysical connection. There’s some kind of divine being up there with either a wicked sense of humor, or a grudge against Niall.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Niall huffs, turning onto his side.

“Answer the question, Niall.” Harry demands.

“No.” Niall says firmly.

“You owe me an answer.” Harry growls. “After all the times you’ve hurt me, you owe me an answer.”

“Both, okay?” Niall snaps, turning over to glare right back at Harry. “It’s fucking both!”

Harry is in Niall’s lap in an instant, straddling over his thighs as he closes every bit of space between them. His hands wrap around the back of Niall’s neck, thumbs on the blond’s jaw, and he draws him in until there’s no air left to breathe between them. But he stops short of the kiss, waiting to see if Niall is going to pull away.

And Niall wants to. God, does he want to, because he knows that he has to. But he can’t. He just doesn’t have the strength to fight back right now. He knows he should, that this is letting things go well past the line he’s drawn in the sand, and will only hurt them both more after it’s over, but that knowledge is being burned away by the energy crackling between them.

So he surprises them both and closes the gap that’s left between their lips and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry doesn’t stay surprised for long though. He kisses Niall back fiercely after only a second, fingers tangling in his hair to hold him close, like he’s afraid of what happened last time happening again. His worry is unfounded though.

Niall’s not nearly strong enough to push him away right now.

All he can do is cling onto Harry for dear life, because that’s how it feels. It’s like Harry is a lifeline. Like he’s oxygen, and Niall is finally letting himself take a breath.

Harry pushes him down into the mattress, never breaking the kiss, and Niall finds that he doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t mind Harry’s weight on top of him, because it doesn’t feel stifling or constricting or limiting. If anything, Niall feels fucking free.

One of his hands slides up the back of Harry’s shirt, feeling the perfect, smooth heat of his skin. The other travels in the opposite direction, cupping over Harry’s arse, and the brunet groans when Niall tightens his grip on it. And - God - if that’s not just the most beautiful sound in the whole fucking world, then Niall doesn’t want to know what could top it.

Harry ruts down against him, grinds his cock along the line of Niall’s hip, and the pressure is so perfect that it makes Niall gasp, finally breaking the kiss. Harry wastes no time getting his mouth on Niall’s neck and his hands all over Niall’s torso.

“Tell me - this isn’t - a dream.” Harry mumbles between the lovebites he’s sucking into Niall’s neck. “Not another one.”

Niall isn’t sure he can speak. He isn’t sure that he could form any word on his tongue other than ‘stop’. Because he knows with every fiber of his being that this is wrong, but – fuck – he just doesn’t want to stop. No matter how much it shatters him come tomorrow morning, tonight he doesn’t want this to stop.

So, instead, he gives a pinch to Harry’s bum.

Harry gives a quick squeal, followed by a giggle of, “Cheeky.”

And even now, even when he knows this is the wrong thing, Harry has this way of easing the tide of Niall’s anxiety. He quells the storm building up under Niall’s skin in a way that nobody and nothing else can, even though he’s also the source of it.

So Niall says, “Seemed the quickest way to make sure.”

“Do you need me to pinch you?” Harry hums, pulling back to grin at Niall.

“No.” Niall answers. “If- If this were a dream- If I was having a dream about the two of us being together- I’d have my leg. I’m not feeling a foot, so-”

“Stop that.” Harry murmurs, cutting Niall off with a press of lips against his own. It’s slower than before, not as hungry and rushed and frantic. “You’re so young and beautiful.”

“Jaysus.” Niall groans, twisting his face away. “Really, Harry?”

“I think you are.” Harry says softly.

“I meant you playing that damn game right now.” Niall huffs.

“You knew?” Harry asks, his smile growing even brighter so that it’s nearly blinding in the dark room.

“We’ve watched ‘Jailhouse Rock’ together, Harry.” Niall sighs. “We’ve watched it like- Five times, actually, because it’s one of your favorites. Top three.”

“I just assumed you didn’t really pay that much attention.” Harry admits with a shrug.

“Of course I did.” Niall says quietly. “It’s important to you.”

“Niall-” Harry breathes out.

“Plus, I really want to beat you at that game some time.” Niall adds. “Haven’t figured out the right lyric yet, but I will.”

“Never.” Harry smirks, leaning back in and pecking the tip of Niall’s nose. “But I welcome you to try. Just not right now.”

“Well, I welcome you to fuck me.” Niall counters. “So you should get on that right now.”

“Jesus.” Harry hisses, rutting down against Niall again.

“That’s the stuff.” Niall grunts out, grinding right back up against him. The hand he has on Harry’s back shifts to the other side of his bum, pulling him back down as Niall ruts up again. “C’mon.”

“Fuck. Yeah – Alright.” Harry slurs out, attaching his lips to Niall’s collarbone, trailing lower as he adds, “Think I can do that.”

And – Jesus – his mouth is fucking sinful. Everything about him is so fucking pure, so bright and shiny and untainted that it’s impossible to believe that just his mouth can have Niall writhing and squirming against the scratchy fabric of the hotel duvet like he’s already in the middle of having the best sex of his life. Every kiss and lick and nip that he does explodes across Niall’s skin like fireworks, sensations colliding with sensations in ways he’s never felt before.

Harry hooks his fingers into the band of Niall’s briefs, dragging them down below his hipbones. He stops there, though, leaving Niall trapped beneath the fabric still as he goes to work on his hips. Harry’s a strange mix of gentle and rough, possessive and reverent, as he clings tight to Niall’s body with his hands, and worships him slowly with his mouth like he’s been waiting a lifetime for the chance to show his piety.

“Harry- Jaysus!” Niall hisses when Harry yanks down his pants the rest of the way.

“Hello.” Harry hums, wrapping his fist loosely around Niall’s cock and pressing a quick kiss to the head. “It’s been a while since we first saw each other. It’s nice to finally, properly meet you.”

“It hasn’t been that long.” Niall says, pushing himself up on his elbows just to make sure Harry sees it when he rolls his eyes. “It’s only been a bit over a month.”

“That’s not the first time. It was the morning after we met, remember?” Harry grins devilishly up at him. “I certainly haven’t forgotten.”

“Oh Jesus.” Niall groans, dropping back onto the bed and covering his face when the memory hits him.

“You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.” Harry chuckles. “I was the one who was drooling so much that I could barely get a word out properly.”

“No accounting for taste.” Niall mumbles through his hands, gasping when Harry lays his tongue flat against the base of Niall’s cock and licks up before sucking the head into his mouth.

And Niall thought Harry’s mouth was sinful before, but he was wrong. He was completely wrong. Because Harry’s mouth isn’t sinful at all. It’s fucking heavenly. His lips and his tongue and his throat are holy fucking bliss.

Of course, his attitude about the situation is less than saintly. No, the way he moves his tongue and bobs his head and moans around Niall is anything but devout. He enjoys it far too much for this to be wholly the act of a martyr. It’s not a sacrifice by any stretch of the imagination.

Harry takes Niall all the way to the back of his throat, tightening in a way that makes Niall’s toes curl on the foot he still has before slowly sliding off, smirking when he says, “No, you taste as good as you look. My taste is very well accounted for.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I look like a fucking mess, so that’s not exactly helping your argument.” Niall grunts out.

“Niall.” Harry sighs.

“Harry, half of my torso is scar tissue, and I have half a leg.” Niall points out, though the fact that Harry can see him completely bare right now means he doesn’t need to. “Take off the rose-tinted glasses, Harry. Don’t look at me as a man you’re in love with. Just really look at me.”

“I’ve thought you were beautiful from before we even spoke, Niall.” Harry says softly, looking up from beneath his eyelashes to meet Niall’s eyes. “You were sitting there in the wheelchair, scowling at everything until you saw what I had written on that poster. And then- Then you smiled. God- That smile-”

“Stop.” Niall tells him. “Harry, stop.”

“It changed my whole world.” Harry breathes out, crawling forward and kissing his way up Niall’s body as he says, “The scars- The leg- That fucking scowl you always have on- None of that stops me from thinking that you’re breathtakingly beautiful, Niall.”

“Harry-” Niall whimpers, clutching at the brunet’s sides.

“I love you.” Harry murmurs, placing soft pecks up the line of Niall’s jaw before placing his lips against Niall’s as he says, “Please, just let me love you.”

Niall can’t bring himself to respond verbally. He doesn’t trust himself not to say the wrong thing, though he isn’t quite sure what the wrong thing is anymore. Affirmative- Negative- The lines are blurred too heavily for him to tell. Instead he lets a kiss do it for him, fisting his hands in Harry’s shirt and tugging it up to his armpits because the space between their skins feels nothing short of blasphemous.

Harry gets the idea eventually, sighing against Niall’s lips before lifting himself up enough to tug the fabric off over his head. Niall doesn’t let him go for long though. Just a moment apart so that they can be closer. So that he can really feel the divine way that Harry has been sculpted pressed against him fully.

He runs his hands over everything that’s been exposed. His nails scratch down the taut planes of Harry’s back, and his fingers dig into the fleshy softness of Harry’s hips, and his fingers follow the defined ridges of Harry’s abs, and his thumbs scrape roughly over Harry’s pert nipples before he finally winds his arms around Harry’s neck to keep him close. And everything about him is so perfect- Fucking celestial- that Niall feels like a bug in comparison.

“Why do you have to be like this?” Niall pants out when they break apart for air, lips still resting against each other because they can’t seem to bear any distance.

“Like what?” Harry asks.

“So beautiful.” Niall whispers. “So bloody perfect.”

“‘M not perfect.” Harry mumbles shyly, burying his face in Niall’s neck so closely that the blond can actually feel his blush.

“You really are.” Niall whispers, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. He kind of misses the length that it had before his birthday. That look was so very ‘Harry’. “Everything about you, inside and out. I can’t stand it. Drives me fucking mad.”

“I’d rather drive you mad in other ways.” Harry chuckles, kissing Niall on a spot behind his ear that makes him gasp and squirm. “Ways that are more fun for the both of us.”

“Then get to it.” Niall grunts, sliding his hands down Harry’s back and pushing the joggers off over the swell of his arse. “Because the way you’re driving me mad right now is probably not the way you want to be.”

“You sure about that?” Harry asks, nipping at the same spot as before and making Niall whimper. “Because I think I have you exactly the way I want you.”

“What?” Niall scoffs, trying adamantly not to shiver or moan as Harry doubles down on that spot. “Desperate and waiting?”

“Eager.” Harry answers with a hum.

“Harry!” Niall groans.

“I’m getting to it.” Harry says, pulling back with a smirk on his stupidly smug, annoyingly pretty face. “Don’t go getting all scowly at me.”

“That’s just how my face looks.” Niall says flatly.

“That’s not how it looked when I had your dick in my mouth.” Harry grins wickedly. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Then either put it back in your mouth, or get to fucking me already.” Niall huffs. “Or leave me alone so that I can wank and then sleep, because it’s been a long night, and you’ve got me riled up, and if you’re not going to do anything about it, then I’m just going to do it myself.”

“Oh really?” Harry asks disbelievingly, arching his eyebrow and sitting back on his haunches.

And- Well- No, Niall didn’t really mean that, but he really doesn’t feel like backing down either. So he doesn’t. 

Instead, he grabs the bottle of lube from the drawer of the nightstand where he’d left it after his time with Ashton earlier. He drizzles it over his fingers, using his other hand to coat them evenly before he reaches down and presses one into himself without any preamble.

Harry’s eyes go wide, and it’s Niall’s turn to smirk. But, the truth is, he doesn’t feel smug as much as relieved. Because he’s still loose, still open and slick from when he’d had Ashton fuck him so hard only hours ago. And he knows that Harry knows it happened, but he doesn’t want to rub it in. He doesn’t want it to be anything more than an underlying thought in the background, if that. So the fact that he’s the one doing this will help keep things focused on what’s happening now, instead of what happened before.

He wraps his slicked hand around his cock, giving a slow tug and enjoying the way Harry’s tongue darts out to lick his lips before Niall says, “You mind not staring? Not all of us are used to being watched while we do this.”

“How am I supposed to not watch this?” Harry asks, his voice low and gravelly. He doesn’t even bother to look away, or hide the way he palms himself through the pair of Niall’s stolen joggers. “What else would I be doing?”

“Putting on this-” Niall explains, taking his hand away from his cock to reach back into the drawer and grab a condom, while he stuffs a second finger inside of himself alongside the first with the other hand. He tosses the condom at Harry, and continues with, “And then getting ready to fuck me before I actually decide to just finish myself off.”

“Yeah- Fuck- Okay.” Harry slurs out, flopping onto his back and taking off the joggers as gracelessly as Niall has ever seen.

And he has the audacity to call Niall the eager one.

“Finally getting with the program.” Niall snorts, placing his hand back on his cock and stroking himself in time with the way his own fingers are opening him up.

But any other snide remarks that might have come to mind quickly slip away, because Harry is on his back with his legs spread and feet planted on the mattress, naked and smooth and gorgeous. He’s giving Niall a view of everything while he struggles with getting the condom open, and Niall feels like he’s going to fucking cum on the spot at the sight. It takes every bit of willpower he has just to pull his hand away from his cock so that he doesn’t accidentally go off before they even fuck.

He slips a third finger in, just to make sure he’s ready, and then he’s pulling them all out and wiping them on the sheets as Harry finally manages to roll the condom down his cock.

“Jaysus- Will you get over here and fuck me already?” Niall grunts when, instead of moving, Harry gives himself a few tugs. It can’t even be that comfortable when he’s dry like that inside the condom, but if Niall has learned anything tonight, it’s that Harry is a fucking tease. It is definitely not his best quality.

“You ready?” Harry asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Are my fingers still in my arse?” Niall fires back at him.

“Can you try not being so grumpy for this, at least?” Harry sighs.

“I don’t know. Can you try not being such a fucking tease?” Niall huffs.

“You haven’t even seen me begin to tease.” Harry smirks, lifting himself back up with his left hand planted behind him, and his right still giving slow strokes over his cock.

“If your dick isn’t in me in the next ten seconds, it’s not going to be at all.” Niall growls. His patience is at an all-time low, his body feeling like it’s going to explode, and he’s about ready to shove Harry back down and just ride him to get what he wants– What he fucking needs.

“Alright, alright.” Harry hums smugly, letting himself go in order to crawl in between Niall’s legs. “No need to go making threats. I’ve got you. This how you want it?”

“Not exactly a lot of positions I can really do.” Niall mumbles, impatience turning to embarrassment in a flash.

With Ash, it’s easy. There are limits and boundaries and a knowledge between them that makes things run smoothly, because, no matter how much Niall’s body may disgust him, the blond’s money is still as good as anyone else’s. But, with Harry, things are different. There’s no money. There’s no leverage. There’s nothing that Niall has to offer, and he doesn’t even understand why this is what Harry wants, because Harry could have literally anyone.

Everyone in that room tonight was charmed by him. He could have walked out of there with any person that he wanted to, and they wouldn’t be like Niall. They wouldn’t be scarred and broken and missing pieces. They wouldn’t look like something out of a fucking nightmare. They wouldn’t be a literal charity case.

They’d at least have a chance of being worthy of Harry’s grace.

“Where are you?” Harry asks, breathes the words out over Niall’s lips when he presses their foreheads together.

“Right here.” Niall tells him, spreading his own legs wide to invite Harry in.

“Not with him?” Harry asks quietly, sounding unsure for the first time since their lips collided tonight.

“Not with Ash, not with Eoghan.” Niall murmurs reassuringly, giving him a soft kiss. “Just you. You?”

“Just you.” Harry echoes, painting the words over Niall’s lips with his own as carefully as if he were creating the murals on the roof of the Sistine chapel. “It’s only you for me.”

“Ash was only ever just a distraction and a friend, Harry.” Niall whispers. “And Eoghan is in the past. Right here, right now, I’m with you. So, can we please just get to the good part?”

“It’s all the good part as long as it’s you and me.” Harry hums. “But, yeah, we can get to the really good part.”

“Fucking finally.” Niall huffs, pulling Harry in for another kiss. It’s sloppier this time, rough and wet and hard because he fucking wants this and he’s done waiting.

He lifts his good leg up and wraps it around Harry’s lower back to give him the proper room and leverage, and hopes Harry will be too focused on the feeling of Niall wrapped around his cock to remember the fucking stump.

God- The fucking stump. Of course Harry places his hand on Niall’s leg as soon as he has the thought. Niall has never felt more unappealing, never felt more grotesque, than he does when Harry’s hand glides down his left leg.

“Please don’t.” Niall whimpers, his hand shooting out and gripping Harry’s wrist. “Don’t touch it. Please, please, please don’t touch it, Harry. Please.”

“Alright.” Harry nods. “But I need you to lift your leg up for me. I can’t get a good angle with it down on the mattress like this. Can you just put it up on my side, like the other one?”

“Okay.” Niall agrees in a whisper. “Just don’t touch it.”

“I won’t.” Harry murmurs, easing the tension in Niall’s furrowed eyebrows by pressing a kiss between them. “Not if you don’t want me to. I’d never do anything you don’t want, Niall. I promise.”

“I know.” Niall breathes out, lifting his leg up to match the other. “I know, Harry. So just fuck me already.”

“No. I’ve fucked enough in my life.” Harry says quietly, taking ahold of his cock and pressing into Niall’s hole. He sinks in slowly, stretches Niall open far more than his own fingers had, and it burns. It fucking burns, but it’s like a holy flame, lighting Niall up from the inside in the most divine way. He buries himself in Niall after an eternity, pressing soft kisses to the blond’s neck when he murmurs, “I’m going to make love to you, Niall.”

“Call it whatever you want.” Niall grunts out, tightening himself around Harry just to pull one of those heavenly moans out of him. “Just start moving before I bust.”

Harry pulls out just a bit and then thrusts back in, making Niall gasp out, “God!”

Immediately Harry stops moving, worriedly asking, “Are you okay?”

“Good God.” Niall breathes out with a nod. “It was a good ‘God’. Feels amazing. Keep going. Please.”

“You’ll let me know if I hurt you?” Harry asks.

“I will.” Niall promises, anchoring his fingernails in the back of Harry’s neck. “So keep going.”

“Not going to last long.” Harry mumbles, burying his face in Niall’s neck as he starts back up moving with shallow thrusts of his hips. “You feel- It’s- God.”

Niall is of a similar sentiment, his whole mind and body thrumming on a frequency he’s never reached before. Yeah, Ashton is good, and Eoghan was too, but Harry is on a whole new level. Their bodies are pressed together as much as they can be, and Niall is crackling with some celestial energy everywhere that their skin meets. It’s beyond words, so Niall just nods his agreement as he lets his hands wander all over Harry’s body to see if it all feels the same.

And it does. Every thrust Harry makes has Niall lighting up inside, ascending higher and higher until he can’t take it anymore that they’re not kissing. He turns his face to the side, and it’s like Harry has had the same idea at the same time, because they meet instantly.

And if Niall thought it was good before- Well, that was nothing. Everything kicks up another notch once their lips meet. The motions of their bodies become more fluid, and the sensations flowing between them are that much more intense.

He only pulls away enough to gasp out, “More,” once he feels like he’s about to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

And Harry takes direction like a champ. He fucks into Niall harder, faster, and it feels like Niall is going to burst at any moment. He’s falling apart, not giving a shit about the moans and whimpers making their way from his throat into Harry’s. He just hopes and prays that Harry is feeling it too, feeling the divine level their bodies can take each other to. Because if it’s just him feeling this way, then that hardly seems fair.

After all, Harry should at least get to feel something this good before Niall breaks his heart again in the morning.

“God!” Harry pants out into Niall’s lips. “Ni, I’m so close.”

“I’m right there.” Niall tells him, digging his nails into the soft flesh built up on Harry’s hips. “Just keep going. Just like this.”

It only takes another few thrusts before Niall comes completely undone, cumming harder than he ever has in his life, without even being touched. It’s purely the energy he’s getting from Harry, and it takes over in a primal scream that he lets out as he coats their stomachs.

Harry goes off at the same time, throbbing as he shoots where he’s buried himself deep inside of Niall. And it feels like a spiritual experience, both of them dropping into purgatory hand in hand.

Harry collapses on top of Niall, his body too shaken by the pleasure to hold himself up on his elbows anymore, but Niall finds that he doesn’t mind at all. He likes this. He likes being surrounded and filled up by Harry, because he doesn’t feel quite so broken, quite so splintered and shattered and smashed when he’s got Harry all around him and inside of him like this.

Of course, Niall knows better than anyone that good feelings never last. Harry eventually regains his breathing and pulls out of Niall, flopping onto his back with a mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Niall murmurs, giving himself just a bit of contact by sweeping his fingers over Harry’s knuckles before he sits up and throws his legs over the side of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, his hand darting out and wrapping around Niall’s wrist.

“Just to clean myself off.” Niall assures him. “I’ll be back in a minute with something for you, too.”

“I can do that.” Harry says softly, relaxing his grip on Niall.

“You just did all the work, and gave me the only orgasm I’ve ever had without a hand or mouth on my dick.” Niall chuckles, pulling his hand away from Harry’s to grab Bobby. “You stay here. I promise I’m not going to run out of this room in just Bobby.”

“If I so much as see you reach for your pants, I’m going to tackle you to the ground.” Harry hums, scooting towards Niall and pressing a kiss between his shoulder-blades.

“Harry, do I look like I can run?” Niall snorts. “Even if I had both legs, I still just had your bloody great cock up my arse. Running isn’t a remote possibility, or my intention.”

“Thank you.” Harry whispers, pressing another kiss onto the back of Niall’s neck as the blond pulls his sock on to keep Bobby’s socket from chafing his stump.

“Pretty sure I should be thanking you for the best sex of my life, not the other way around.” Niall waves him off, placing Bobby on his stump and turning it on.

“That’s not what I meant-” Harry says quietly, hooking his chin over Niall’s shoulder. “Although it was for me too, so I guess I should be thanking you for that as well. I meant for finally giving me a chance.”

And- Well- Niall doesn’t know what to say to that. Because it isn’t true. Niall gave into his weakness, gave into his desire to be with Harry, but, come sunrise, everything has to end. He has to put Harry back at a distance and keep him there until they can go their separate ways. He has to make sure Harry has every real chance of being happy, and that can never happen with Niall.

But, for now, he just turns and meets Harry’s lips with his own in answer.

“I’ll be right back.” he whispers, pecking Harry’s lips again before pushing himself up off of the bed.

“Mm, go slower.” Harry laughs behind him. “Give me a good look at your arse, since I didn’t really get to see it.”

“Don’t be greedy.” Niall scoffs, even as he looks back over his shoulder to see the way Harry stares after him. But, where he was expecting a cheeky smirk and eyes locked on Niall’s bare arse, instead he finds Harry with a soft, fond smile and meeting his own eyes.

And it takes everything in Niall not to tell him to stop, not to tell him to cut it out with the affection, but he’s decided to give them both until morning. Niall needs it more than he wants to admit. He needs to be able to hold Harry and kiss him and feel their skin together for tonight, because he’ll never be allowed to feel like this again.

He should never have been allowed to feel like this in the first place, and the universe has a way of putting things that shouldn’t have happened to right.

He cleans himself off with a damp flannel, easing the cold mess off of his skin. It almost feels like a shame as he cleans himself off, wiping away the cum from his stomach and the lube from his hands and between his cheeks. It feels like he’s scrubbing what happened away, and, as much as Niall knows it was a mistake, he doesn’t want it to go away. He doesn’t want to forget it.

He wants the marks that Harry has left over his torso and neck to stay that way, frozen in the divine shape of Harry’s perfect mouth in a tattoo more intimate than any done with ink. He wants the electric feeling buzzing and thrumming under his skin that feels like Harry’s body pressed against his own to never end. He wants the taste of Harry on his tongue to be the only flavor in his mouth for the rest of his life. And, for now, he can have it.

In the morning he’ll have to repent, have to pray for forgiveness of the sin he’s committed by giving Harry this false hope, but tonight he can just revel in the sin and let it take him. Atonement can wait for dawn.

When Niall returns to the room, Harry looks even more soft and beautiful than he did before, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips under half-lidded eyes that still manage to catch the moonlight and shine. Niall leans into the bed, cleaning his own mess from Harry’s stomach as carefully as he can to keep it from running down and getting on the sheets they’ll be sharing.

“You’ve got to stop doing that.” Niall says with a small smile, leaning back and dropping the flannel in the bin before he perches himself on the edge of the bed and returns Bobby to its previous position, charging against the nightstand.

“Stop doing what?” Harry asks.

Niall scoots back into the bed lies down, turning to face Harry when he hums out, “Being so fucking gorgeous.”

“According to you, all I have to do then is wear one of my Hawaiian shirts.” Harry grins, moving closer and draping his arm over Niall’s waist.

“No, unfortunately, you’re even still gorgeous in those.” Niall sighs. “The shirts are hideous, but you aren’t. Not sure you ever could be.”

“I love you.” Harry whispers.

“I- I know.” Niall breathes out.

“It’s okay.” Harry murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss at the corner of Niall’s lips. “You don’t have to say it. I just needed to.”

“Okay.” Niall says, his muscles relaxing before he even knows he’s tensed up. He reaches his hand up, cupping it over Harry’s cheek before saying, “We should get some sleep now. It’s been a long night.”

“Not so very long.” Harry smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

And Niall doesn’t have it in him to argue, so he kisses back. He kisses back, and keeps kissing back until Harry falls asleep in his arms, waiting until the brunet is asleep to whisper, “You’re a fucking angel, Harry Styles.”


	27. Chapter 27

_“Back already?” Bobby hums, looking at Niall from the doorway, arms folded across his chest as he leans against the frame. “I was just about to leave so you two could have the house to yourselves.”_

_“He was a cunt.” Niall huffs, slamming the door to the fridge a bit harder than is strictly necessary after he grabs a beer. “Why the fuck would you ever set me up with him?”_

_“Because he’s a good looking bloke with an arse that even I can appreciate.” Bobby chuckles. “You weren’t supposed to go to dinner and a movie. He was supposed to buy you some drinks and then be a pump-and-dump sort of thing, not your true love.”_

_“I don’t want a one night stand, da.” Niall sighs, twisting open the cap and taking a pull off of the beer. “I want a relationship that actually matters. I’m twenty-four, and I’ve only had one boyfriend. And even that only lasted all of three months because he wasn’t willing to wait for me to do a few months of travel during the summer.”_

_“Love is hard to find when you do what we do.” Bobby says quietly. “Your best shot is finding someone who does it too. They’re the only ones who’ll understand. But it won’t do you any good to keep being so stressed out all the time. You just need some fun until you find the right person.”_

_“You haven’t.” Niall points out. “You’ve been divorced for over twenty years, and you’ve never slept with anyone since.”_

_“That’s different.” Bobby waves him off. “I had my great love. Anything else just won’t matter after that.”_

_“Why?” Niall asks incredulously. “Why would you want Maura, of all people, to be your only love story?”_

_“You don’t know her like I did, Niall.” Bobby says gently._

_“Exactly!” Niall snaps. “I don’t know her! I don’t know my own mother, because she’s so fucking heartless that she abandoned her own son, and then did it again when I came out! So, why in the hell would you want a woman like that to be your ‘great love’?”_

_“You don’t get to pick and choose who you love, son.” Bobby says with a shake of his head. “And you don’t get to pick which parts of them you love. Your mother isn’t heartless. She’s complicated and closed off because I hurt her. She wasn’t always like she is now.”_

_“You hurt her by trying to help people.” Niall mutters. “She put herself above the good that you do for other people. She’s selfish.”_

_“She’s human, Niall.” Bobby tells him. “And so am I. So are you. We all make mistakes and hurt each other.”_

_“Why didn’t you fight for her?” Niall asks weakly. “If you loved her so much, why didn’t you fight for her to stay here and keep us all as a family?”_

_“Because, sometimes love means knowing when to let go of someone for their own sake.” Bobby murmurs, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Niall’s shoulders in a tight hug. “Sometimes the best thing you can do for a person you love is to let them go and find happiness that you can’t give them.”_

_“I need to get to bed.” Niall sighs, wrapping his arms around Bobby’s waist. “I leave for Syria tomorrow night, and I’ve got to spend the whole day searching for the best bargain on SPF fifty.”_

_“I love you, son.” Bobby says gently, placing a kiss on Niall’s forehead like he used to do when Niall was young and he was upset. It still works the same magic._

_“Love you too, da.” Niall whispers, hugging him even tighter before he lets go and heads up the stairs. Who knows, maybe he’ll find someone in Syria. That would be a laugh._

Niall wakes up first, expecting his body to be sore and his eyes heavy with fatigue from a night of tossing and turning. But he isn’t and they aren’t. In fact, Niall feels more rested than he has in as long as he can remember.

He’s got Harry quite literally wrapped around him, one arm all the way back so that his hand is actually tucked under the side Niall is laying on, and his legs tangled around Niall’s good one like an octopus. There’s just a bit of light streaming in through the window, but the sky is overcast and dreary. Niall knows that’s just what it’s like in October in London, but it feels symbolic of the weight that’s settled over his heart.

Niall tries to roll over, but Harry just grunts and tightens his grip. He’s back asleep almost instantly. Niall decides to take a different tack the second time, disentangling himself from Harry’s legs first, as slowly as he can. It takes a few minutes of Niall stopping every time that Harry begins to squirm and wake up, and then prying himself out of Harry’s hold whenever he settles down again.

Based on Niall’s glances at the clock, it takes him over ten minutes to fully break himself out of Harry’s hold without waking him up, but he does manage it eventually. He scoots gently to the edge of the bed, puts on his glasses, and starts getting Bobby ready.

Of course, no sooner has Niall slipped Bobby on than the bed shifts behind him and Harry’s gravelly morning voice asks, “Trying to leave without me knowing?”

“No.” Niall admits. And he wasn’t. He only needed to extricate himself from Harry’s arms. He’d never think about leaving Harry without a word. “I need a shower and breakfast before I go anywhere. I was just letting you sleep.”

“I’m not going to be able to sleep anymore, now.” Harry says quietly. “Not unless you’re here with me.”

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“Please don’t.” Harry pleads in a whisper. “Not yet. Please don’t yet.”

“I’m going to go take a shower now.” Niall says after a moment.

He pushes himself up off of the bed and walks into the en suite, turning the shower on before he looks at himself in the mirror. The marks on his neck and chest have darkened overnight, going from a faint red to a deep purple. Niall’s fingers skim over each one, tracing their edges before moving on to the next. When he looks back up, he’s not surprised to find Harry staring at him from the doorway. He didn’t hear him approach, but it’s like he felt it.

“I won’t take too long.” Niall tells him.

“I’ll help.” Harry says softly. Niall opens his mouth to protest, to deny him, but Harry is quick to say, “The shower doesn’t exactly look accessible to me. It doesn’t have a seat or a bar for you. Let me help.”

Harry’s not wrong, is the thing. In a situation like this, Niall would normally sit on the floor of the shower and just do everything that way, but that always means a bit of difficulty when it comes to getting out and standing back up. It’s hard and embarrassing and generally kind of painful and cold, so Niall finds himself acquiescing with a nod.

“I don’t like my showers scalding like you, though.” Niall mumbles, leaning against the sink as he starts to, yet again, remove Bobby.

“How do you know how I like my showers?” Harry laughs.

“Because, one, you stayed at my place and showered, and even when you came downstairs there was steam rising off of you.” Niall explains. “And, two, you’ve sent me a post-shower selfie in which I could barely even see your face through all the steam in the room.”

“I was naked in that, you know.” Harry grins, stepping forward and wedging himself under Niall’s arm once Bobby is leaning against the counter, next to where his glasses are perched.

“I was under no illusions to the contrary.” Niall snorts, trying to distract Harry from how awkward it is to have to all but carry Niall into the shower. “But you could have sent me a dick-pic and I still wouldn’t have been able to see anything.”

“Mystery dick-pic.” Harry giggles, drawing back the curtain to the shower and easing Niall over the lip of it. “Like a slow reveal. Could make a whole picture series of slowly showing my dick. Make it more creative and fun than just a plain, boring snap of my cock.”

“I don’t think you’re a slow reveal kind of bloke.” Niall hums, settling against the wall while Harry climbs in. “Considering you said you would have been alright with your dick flopping out in front of me a few days after we met.”

“Yeah, well, you made me kind of stupid.” Harry sighs. “Didn’t know half of what I was saying back then.”

“You say that like you make any more sense now.” Niall scoffs. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure you’re not all there in the head.”

“Probably not.” Harry agrees with a shrug. “But neither are you.”

“Low blow, Styles.” Niall says, trying to keep a straight face for as long as possible before he breaks into a grin. “You’re a wanker.”

“You didn’t seem to mind that last night, even if it did make you all impatient.” Harry smirks. “I saw you watching.”

“It was a pretty good view.” Niall mumbles, ducking his head under the spray to hide his blush and actually get started on the showering part of this shower. He’ll wait, give Harry a little more time before he says what he needs to say, but he’s still going to say it soon.

He has to.

 

“Shite coffee, but the fry-up makes enough of a difference that I’m not going to complain.” Harry hums, chewing at a piece of bacon.

“You’re a coffee snob.” Niall scoffs, looking down at his phone to see how much longer he has. Ashton is going to be here any minute to pick him up, and he needs to have this damn conversation with Harry, but every time he tries, Harry cuts him off and starts rambling about something else. “Harry-”

“I’m not a snob.” Harry huffs. “I just happen to think that the way you start your day is important, and really good coffee can make all the difference. Drinking sludge like this isn’t a good start to the day.”

“Harry-” Niall tries again, only to be shut down again.

“You can’t tell me that drinking coffee from the maker I bought you doesn’t make your mornings better.” Harry says adamantly.

“Last night was a mistake.” Niall blurts out before Harry can stop him.

“Niall-” Harry whimpers. “Please. Please don’t do this.”

“It shouldn’t have happened, Harry.” Niall tells him. “I shouldn’t have let it happen, and I knew that. I was weak, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry breathes out. “Just don’t do this.”

“What happened last night can’t happen again.” Niall says softly. “We need to go back to the way things were before.”

“And how the fuck are we supposed to do that?” Harry asks harshly. “How are we supposed to go back to the way things were when we both know that last night not only wasn’t a mistake, but it was the first time either of us have felt right in ages?”

“Because it wasn’t right, Harry.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“Bullshit!” Harry spits out. “I know you felt it too, Niall. I know that you felt the same way that I did last night.”

“What I felt last night was a bottle of champagne, Harry.” Niall sighs. “I never should have let you in here, but you were upset, and I was feeling guilty, and it was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t a pity fuck!” Harry growls. “It wasn’t about the alcohol, or Ashton and you ending things, or what happened down stairs. Don’t you dare try to say that!”

“It wasn’t.” Niall acquiesces. “But it wasn’t what it should have been. It wasn’t right. It was a moment of weakness from me, and I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that!” Harry screams, standing up out of his chair and throwing his coffee cup against the far wall. Niall flinches away, can’t help it, but regrets it as soon as he sees the look that crosses Harry’s face. He looks the same way Niall felt after shoving him. “Niall- Please don’t do this. Please. You know we could be happy together. You know that I could make you happy.”

“But I couldn’t make you happy, Harry.” Niall whispers. “I couldn’t.”

“You did, though!” Harry hisses. “God- Niall- Last night was the first time in as long as I can remember that I was really happy. And it doesn’t have anything to do with the sex. I thought you were really going to give me a chance. I know it’s stupid, and I should have known better, but I really thought you were giving me a chance, and that made me happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Did you know that Louis has a stun-gun disguised as an iPhone?” Niall asks quietly. “He could go to jail for it, because they aren’t legal here, but he has one. Because, during our third session, I went into a violent episode and tried to kill him. He has it in case anything like that ever happens again. Liam keeps a pair of speedcuffs on him whenever he’s around me because I once punched him so hard that it knocked two of his fillings out. Bressie kept a storage closet empty at all times after I broke his finger, because he just picks me up and throws me in it if I have a violent episode.”

“I can take care of myself, Niall.” Harry grits out.

“But I can’t.” Niall breathes out. “I’m dangerous, Harry. I’m so dangerous that I’ve been arrested twice for assault, which is why I was ever even in therapy anyways. A judge ordered six months of court-mandated therapy.”

“I don’t care!” Harry yells.

“Lower your voice.” someone demands, stepping into the room and sending a wave of relief flooding through Niall. “Now. You don’t yell at him.”

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks icily.

“I’m here to take him home.” Ashton answers. “And apparently to get him away from you. So you need to calm down.”

“Niall, you can’t do this to me.” Harry says desperately, taking a step towards where Niall has scurried out of his chair to grab his things.

A single step is all he manages to take though, because Ashton is between them in a flash, saying, “Not on your life. I heard the way you were yelling at him all the way from the lift. You’re not laying a hand on him.”

“Get out of my way.” Harry spits out.

“If you want to talk, you can do it from here, and you can do it without raising your voice to him.” Ashton says firmly.

“I said move!” Harry snarls, rearing his fist back.

That, as it turns out, was a very bad mistake. Ashton’s hand shoots out and latches onto Harry’s wrist when it swings toward him, and then he twists, using Harry’s weight and momentum against him until he’s pivoted enough to force Harry to his knees with his arm held straight back behind him, Ashton’s other hand on the back of his neck to keep him there.

Harry screams in pain, and Ashton growls out, “You’re not laying a hand on him, and you’re certainly not fucking laying a hand on me! Nobody will ever do that again without my permission!”

“Ashton!” Niall snaps, darting forward and grabbing onto the Aussie’s arm. “Ashton, stop!”

“Shit!” Ashton hisses, dropping his hands away from Harry and backing up.

“What the fuck is the matter with you two?” Niall yells. “What makes either of you think this is acceptable?”

“Niall-” Ashton starts, but Niall isn’t in the mood to hear any excuses.

“Stop.” Niall cuts him off. “You didn’t have to hurt him. And, Harry, you definitely didn’t need to try and hit him.”

“Please don’t go, Niall.” Harry whispers, turning to drop onto his backside as he scoots back against the bed. “Stay here and talk to me.”

“I’ve said what I need to say, Harry.” Niall murmurs. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why would you let me believe if you were lying?” Harry asks weakly. “Why would you let me believe we had a real chance?”

“Because- Because I wanted to believe it too.” Niall admits quietly, walking towards the door. “But I can’t. I’m not a believer, Harry. I never have been, and I never will be. I know what I know, and what I know is that being together would end up hurting you. What happened last night- It can’t ever happen again, and we both need to forget about it and move on.”

“I’m not moving on, Niall.” Harry says firmly when Niall opens the door. “I’m not giving up on us, and I’m not giving up on you.”

“That’s your choice.” Niall says, shaking his head and keeping his eyes locked on the bank of lifts on the other side of the hallway because he knows that he’ll break if he looks back. “But it’s the wrong one, Harry. It is absolutely the wrong choice.”

 

“Did you sleep with him?” Ashton asks when they pull up in front of Niall’s house.

“Yes.” Niall nods.

“How- How could you do that to him?” Ashton asks quietly.

“Better than almost breaking his fucking arm.” Niall scoffs. “What the fuck was that?”

“The first year I did this job, I was just a hustler.” Ashton says softly, keeping his eyes on his hands as he speaks. “One john- He put me in the hospital. A few others had hit me, but he attacked me like an animal because I recognized him as an MP. When I got out of the hospital, I signed up for self-defense courses, and tried my hand at escorting instead. I refused to ever let anything like that happen to me again, and- And when he looked at me like that, so fucking furious, something in me went straight back to those days, and I didn’t even really see him. He was just a faceless man, throwing a punch at me, and I wasn’t going to let it happen. I’m sorry.”

“You have PTSD.” Niall breathes out.

“I- I don’t think so.” Ashton says, shaking his head.

“Ashton, I know fucking PTSD.” Niall says quietly. “Yours is different than mine, not full-immersion, but it’s still PTSD. Have you ever talked to anyone?”

“No.” Ashton admits. “That kind of thing has never happened to me before.”

“Well, given the fact that you’ve had training, it could make you dangerous, Ash.” Niall says gently. “You could have really hurt him. You need to see someone.”

“Got any recommendations?” Ashton asks with a wry smile.

“A few.” Niall nods. “In the meantime, you should look into yoga. It’s helpful.”

“Hey!” comes a voice from outside the car, accompanied by a tap on the glass. “I have a class in an hour, and I need to go.”

“Seriously, Ash, I’ll send you some numbers, and you should call one.” Niall says softly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Alright.” Ashton agrees. “Can we set something up this week? Lunch or something? I meant what I said last night. I want to stay friends.”

“We will.” Niall nods. “Just not friends with paid benefits.”

“Class!” Luke hisses through the window.

“I’m going.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes, opening up the door once Luke steps back.

“Thank you.” Luke huffs. “Oh, and tell the hottie on your couch to call me if he ever wants a good time.”

“Hottie on my couch?” Niall asks confusedly.

“The giant.” Luke explains. “He showed up about ten minutes ago, said he was your boss, and he’s inside waiting for you with Conan.”

“Jaysus.” Niall mutters, looking over to find Bressie’s car parked in front of Ashton’s.

“Seriously, any time.” Luke grins. “I would love to get a ride on that.”

“He’s straight.” Niall says flatly.

“And I’m a girl sometimes.” Luke smirks. “I’ll wear my nicest knickers for him, and he’ll love my ass better than any woman.”

“Get in the damn car if you want a ride.” Ashton grumbles, looking phenomenally jealous.

“Gotta go.” Luke hums, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Niall’s lips before climbing into the car. Apparently he’s decided on a strategy of making Ashton jealous as all hell, and Niall is pretty damn sure it’s working.

Good for Luke.

Niall turns towards the house and heads inside, immediately getting jumped on by Conan once he’s in the door. The lab whines and licks at his face, and Niall just holds him tight and presses a kiss between his eyes.

“Get in here, wee one.” Bressie calls from the sitting room.

“What are you doing here, you great, bloody oaf?” Niall asks, leaning against the doorframe. “If you’re here to finally yell at me for quitting, we need to reschedule. I’ve had about all I can take this morning.”

“No yelling.” Bressie says gently, patting next to himself on the couch. “I just miss you.”

“I’ve already had sex three times, with two different blokes, in the last twelve hours.” Niall says, narrowing his eyes. “If you’re finally going to admit you want my arse, we’re going to have to reschedule that as well.”

“Okay, one, when did you turn into such a slut?” Bressie snorts. “And, two, no. I’m still straight.”

“Luke will be extremely disappointed.” Niall chuckles, walking over and sitting down. “But, to be fair, he’s gender fluid. He’s a girl sometimes.”

“Still too much penis for my taste.” Bressie snorts. “But he was very pretty.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.” Niall grins.

“So, these two blokes of yours-” Bressie says. “They Ashton and Harry?”

“Yes.” Niall sighs.

“Do they know?” Bressie questions.

“Yes.” Niall repeats with a nod. “But that part of things with Ashton is over now, and Harry was just a mistake.”

“Why?” Bressie asks.

“Because- Because I can’t be what he needs.” Niall says quietly, looking down at Conan.

“That’s shite, and you know it.” Bressie huffs, smacking Niall softly in the back of the head.

“Bress-” Niall starts.

“I know I have a long history of letting you get away with everything, Niall, but not this time.” Bressie says firmly. “You’re wrong. That boy is completely gone for you. It’s not about what you think about yourself, because you can only see yourself one way. It’s what he thinks about you, and he loves you. It’s not hard to tell.”

“I’d hurt him, Bress.” Niall whispers.

“And you think you’re not already hurting him?” Bressie asks.

“Not the way I’d hurt him if he became a permanent part of my life.” Niall says, shaking his head. “He’s safer away from me. He’s safer away from what’s inside of me.”

“You’ve got mental health issues, Niall.” Bressie sighs. “You’re not a fucking werewolf. What you have is manageable. I’ve seen you manage it.”

“You’ve also seen me attack you and everyone else in the studio.” Niall points out.

“When is the last time that you had a violent episode, Niall?” Bressie asks flatly.

“Just because it’s been months doesn’t mean that it couldn’t happen.” Niall argues. “Especially since I’m off my meds.”

“Well why the fuck would you do that?” Bressie asks incredulously.

“Because they were set to a dosage for my hallucinations, but I wasn’t hallucinating.” Niall says quietly.

“You saw a dead man. That’s a hallucination, Niall.” Bressie says gently.

“He’s not dead.” Niall mutters. “Eoghan is alive. He came here. I talked to him. Harry even saw him and was here for it, if you don’t believe me. Should have taken a fucking picture just so you would all stop assuming I’m completely mental.”

“Okay, I believe you.” Bressie tells him. “But, even if they were changed to stop what was thought to be hallucinations, they were still working to control your symptoms, yeah?”

“Yeah, but-” Niall starts.

“But you were pissed off, and emotional, and you decided to go off of them anyways?” Bressie finishes. “Even though you’ve probably had more dramatic symptoms since then?”

“Yes, okay?” Niall grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m at like- Three episodes a week, and I can barely control myself sometimes. But I’m managing.”

“You’re getting by, and it doesn’t sound to me like you’re doing it very well at all.” Bressie says, placing his hand on Niall’s shoulder. “And I think you know that you’re pushing Harry away because you’re scared, not because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Can- Can you give me a ride?” Niall asks after a moment, gulping around the words in his throat. “I think- I think there’s someone I need to talk to.”

 

Bressie pulls up to a stop right where Niall tells him to. Right in front of a quaint little house, on a quaint little street, with a not so quaint little resident.

“I thought you told me that Harry lives in Oxford?” Bressie questions.

“He does.” Niall nods, unbuckling his seatbelt. “But I’m not going to talk to Harry. I’m right about that, Bress. He’s safer without me.”

“Niall-” Bressie sighs.

“Thanks for the ride, Bress.” Niall mumbles, opening up the door and groaning as Conan climbs through the gap between the front seats to get out and assist Niall. He’s not been happy with being left at home, apparently.

“You deserve to be happy, Niall.” Bressie says, reaching across the car and pulling Niall into a hug. “If Harry makes you happy, then give him a chance.”

“I can’t.” Niall whispers, squeezing Bressie back quickly before he climbs out, using Conan’s handle because the lab huffs grumpily when he starts to do it without. “Sometimes, the best thing you can do for someone you care about is to let them go find the happiness that you can’t give them.”

“And, sometimes, the best thing you can do is give them a chance to see if you can.” Bressie says quietly before Niall closes the door.

He lets Conan lead him towards the all too familiar door, and takes a deep breath before knocking. There’s two cars parked in the drive, both of which Niall knows, so this is bound to be even more awkward than it was already going to be.

“Don’t put your pants on! I’m sure it’s not important!” a voice calls from somewhere behind the door, and Niall groans.

“We’re a bit busy at the moment, so-” Liam starts when he opens the door, only to stop and stare in shock when he sees who’s standing in front of him. “Niall?”

“I need to talk to him.” Niall mumbles, grinding his toe into the ground.

“Lou-” Liam says loudly. “Louis, you need to put your pants on!”

“No!” Louis groans, his voice getting closer to the door. “Tell them to go away! And that’s not what you’re supposed to call me today. It’s supposed to be- Niall?”

“That’s a bit creepy.” Niall says with a weak smile, looking over Liam’s shoulder to find Louis slack-jawed with a hand cupping his junk. It’s a flashback he really doesn’t need at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks, eyes still wide.

“I’m in love with Harry, and I need you to fix it.” Niall tells him. “You’re the only one who can help me.”


	28. Chapter 28

“Jesus Christ.” Louis mutters, shaking his head as he paces across the room. He’s been doing it for the ten minutes since Niall explained everything that’s happened since the last time they talked, thankfully clothed. Unfortunately, it kind of seems like he’s lost his mind.

“Is he going to be okay?” Liam asks, leaning over towards Niall but keeping his eyes locked on his boyfriend’s insane expression.

“I- I don’t know.” Niall tells him. “I’ve only ever seen him like this when Doncaster plays for shite.”

“Doncaster never plays for shite!” Louis growls, stopping to glare at Niall. “They have off-days sometimes, but they never play for shite!”

“Alright!” Niall says quickly, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“You knew about Eoghan?” Louis asks, turning his glare to Liam. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I asked him not to.” Niall explains. “I wasn’t ready to see you yet, and I knew that you’d force your way in if you knew.”

“But you’re ready now.” Louis scoffs. “After your ex came back from the dead, you’ve gone off your meds, had an ongoing relationship with a prostitute-cum-drug-dealer, left your job after getting an offer to produce an album that will probably win Grammies, started working for a sleazebag like Simon Cowell in what is essentially extortion, and now fallen in love with and fucked the porn star that’s in love with you. Did I get all that right?”

“I also won a game of golf against Justin Rose.” Niall offers. “And I’ve raised almost a million pounds for All Dogs go to Heaven all together.”

“Shut! Up!” Louis hisses, pronouncing each word separately for emphasis. He rubs at his temples and adds, “And now you want me to fix you so that you can be with Harry?”

“No, I want you to fix me being in love with Harry.” Niall corrects him. “I need you to make it stop.”

“Jesus Christ.” Louis mutters again, dropping into the chair across from Niall. “Why would you want that?”

“Because I’m never going to be okay enough to be with him, so I need to be able to survive it once I’m done with this charity job and we go our separate ways.” Niall explains.

“Niall, this is a lot.” Louis says quietly. “I mean- You haven’t spoken to me for months. You cut me out completely, and you didn’t even give me a chance to earn your forgiveness.”

“I know.” Niall nods. “I- I know. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

He pushes himself off of the couch, heading for the door with Conan, but a hand wraps around his wrist and Louis says, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t treat you, Niall. Of course I will.”

“Why?” Niall asks weakly.

“Because, you’re still my best friend.” Louis murmurs, tugging Niall around and holding him fiercely. “I love you, and I want to help make everything okay again for you.”

“I’m so sorry, Tommo.” Niall whimpers, burying his face in Louis’ neck.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” Louis says gently. “We’ll fix this. I promise.”

Then, and only then, does Niall let go of the control he’s been losing grip on today and cry.

 

“Hello?” Niall grunts out in answer, not even bothering to look at his mobile before he answers. He knows who it is. He’s been calling every two minutes for the last hour. Besides, his ringtone is very unique for Niall’s phone.

Nobody else would ever get ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ by Elvis.

“Where are you?” Harry hisses. “You were supposed to meet me here an hour ago!”

“Oh shite.” Niall sighs. “Is that today? The- The thing?”

“The dinner with five potential big donors?” Harry asks incredulously. “Yes, that is today, and they’re about to arrive any minute.”

“I can’t today.” Niall mumbles. “You’re going to have to do it alone. But that’s alright. I know you’ve got this.”

“Niall, what happened between us is on the back-burner right now.” Harry says quietly. “I need you here.”

“Harry, I can’t.” Niall repeats. “There’s literally no way that I’d make it through a dinner. I’m going through a med regimen change, and you know what that was like last time.”

“Why are you changing your meds?” Harry asks, anger slipping away to be replaced by worry.

“Because I lied when I told you I went back on them.” Niall admits, wincing as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Fucking stupid lack of a filter.

“Wh- What?” Harry asks weakly.

“I’m sorry.” Niall says softly. “Harry- I’m so sorry.”

“Why would you do that?” Harry asks.

“Because I didn’t want you to be upset with me.” Niall tells him. “I wanted you to stop being sad. I- I wanted you to be happy.”

“Are you talking to Harry?” Louis asks, looking at Niall from the doorway. Niall nods, and Louis says, “Put it on speaker.”

Niall does, just in time to catch Harry asking, “Is this just like last time?”

“Pretty much.” Niall answers. “So I can’t make it out there. I can’t hold back what I’m thinking enough to interact with donors.”

“So if I asked you if you’re in love with me, you’d be honest for once?” Harry asks bitterly.

“I-” Niall chokes out. Louis dives forward just in time to hit the end call button right as Niall says, “I am.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Louis groans, rubbing at where he banged his hip on the coffee table in his mad dash.

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out, collapsing back down on the couch.

“I cannot believe he would do that to you when you’re in this state.” Louis mutters, sitting on the floor by Niall’s head.

“To be fair, he didn’t.” Niall points out. “He only asked if I would answer him honestly. He’s always tried to be respectful and let me reveal things in my own time.”

“Don’t defend him.” Louis huffs. “That was shitty of him to do.”

“I’ve done a lot worse to him.” Niall mumbles, hugging his pillow tightly.

“Niall!” Louis groans, dropping his head back onto the couch cushion and glaring over at the blond. “You’ve got to at least work with me here. Get mad at him.”

“I can’t.” Niall sighs, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “It’s not fair to be mad when I’m the one hurting him over and over. Hell, I completely abandoned him tonight to deal with a bunch of donors that I brought in, all by himself.”

“He’ll understand.” Louis says gently.

“Yeah, the worst part is that he will.” Niall mutters. “I lied to him about my medications, and I abandoned him, after we slept together and I broke his heart for the hundredth fucking time, to put up with something he’s probably not ready for, and he’ll understand. He’ll forgive me, like he has for everything else.”

“Maybe he won’t?” Louis offers. “Maybe this will be the last straw?”

“He’s called me a hundred time in the last two days, Louis.” Niall reminds him. “Every text, every voice message, he’s just begging me to talk to him. He wants to work things out. He wants me to give him a real chance. If what happened isn’t enough to get him to stop, then neither is this.”

“Well- Fuck.” Louis grunts out. “I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Say I can move back into my own place.” Niall huffs. “I hate living in your house. This whole place smells like sweaty bollocks and feet.”

“I gave you a choice between here and there.” Louis reminds him. “You chose here.”

“Because I didn’t want you in my da’s bed.” Niall grumbles.

“You let Harry sleep in Bobby’s bed.” Louis argues.

“Harry wasn’t going to shag Liam in it, now was he?” Niall counters. “At least here, you won’t be getting your arse stuffed on top of where my da died.”

“There’s always the third option.” Louis says flatly.

“I’m not getting committed.” Niall growls, glancing over at him. “I don’t care how much you vouch for the facility, you don’t know what it’s like, Louis. You don’t. The experience is completely different for patients.”

“It’s a voluntary admittance under my authority, not a commitment.” Louis says quietly. “I would be your doctor still, Niall. Nobody but me would be allowed to alter your treatment plan, and I’d have the place shut down if they did anything against my recommendations.”

“I’m not being committed.” Niall repeats adamantly. “Even if the standard of care made it feel like a spa, they wouldn’t let me have Conan, and I still have an obligation to All Dogs go to Heaven. I can’t be locked up until whenever you decide I’m ready to interact with the outside world.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come back, Niall.” Louis sighs. “I made my conditions very clear, and you agreed to them. You can bitch and moan all you want, but I’m not budging. You need more than just an hour at a time a few days a week. You need someone making sure you comply with your meds. Right now, I don’t trust that you could take care of yourself properly if left to your own devices, so this is the way it’s going to be. Get on board.”

“I’m on board.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m all the way aboard the HMS Sweaty-Bollocks-and-Feet.”

 

“Want to go with me for my run?” Liam asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Good one.” Niall says flatly, glaring at Liam over his mug of coffee. Harry was fucking right about a good cup of coffee making the difference in the mornings. Louis’ coffee maker sucks. “You’re hilarious.”

“You know what I mean.” Liam sighs. “A walk. Get some fresh air and some exercise. You’ve been holed up in here for days. I’m sure it would do you some good.”

“Louis won’t be happy if he wakes up and finds me missing.” Niall mumbles.

“Then I’ll leave a note on the mirror in our bathroom telling him you’ve gone with me.” Liam offers. “It’s always the first thing he checks when he wakes up if I’m not in the bed. Besides, when’s the last time you took Conan on a walk longer than around the block?”

“Alright. Go leave your note.” Niall tells him. “I’ll get a jacket and meet you outside.”

“Okay.” Liam nods, lips breaking into a soft smile before he heads away from the door. 

He doesn’t have to look so damn happy about it. Niall’s been holed up because he feels like death, not because he’s hiding or anything.

He’s definitely not hiding, even if he did get a message from Harry yesterday, asking why Niall wasn’t at his house and a bunch of things were gone, like his clothes and Conan’s toys and food.

He moves through the house quietly, grabbing a jacket from his room, and then deciding to throw on a jumper because it’s not exactly the warmest outside now that they’re moving into November. Liam is lucky that he’s basically a furnace, because that’s the only way that he’ll get away with just wearing the joggers and t-shirt that he’s got on when he finds Niall and Conan outside.

“Let’s go.” he beams, walking towards the street.

“How are you so cheerful this early in the morning?” Niall asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and making a note to either buy some gloves or steal some from Louis next time.

“No reason not to be.” Liam says with a shrug. “I woke up with the man I love, and now I get to take a walk with one of my best friends, who’s finally letting us back into his life.”

“It’s not just today, though.” Niall points out. “Or even just this past week. You’re always like this.”

“I guess it’s just because I like to see every day as a new adventure.” Liam says, looking up at the sky. “There’s always so much possibility for the day when you wake up, because you don’t know exactly where it’s going to take you.”

“Funny, I’ve always been more of a ‘same old shit, but a different day’ guy, myself.” Niall mutters.

“How are you feeling?” Liam asks.

“Cold.” Niall huffs.

“You know what I mean, Niall.” Liam sighs.

“I don’t know.” Niall admits. “Scared, confused, angry, sad, relieved, crazy, horny, annoyed, anxious, powerless, ashamed. About ten other things I can’t even figure out. It’s like my brain is on overload, and my body is just kind of shutting down things to cope. I can’t sleep. I’m never hungry. I’m sore, and I’m tired, and I just want to crawl into a hole and stay there for a while.”

“Haven’t made it past the no-filter stage yet, huh?” Liam chuckles.

“I have, actually.” Niall mumbles. “Just wanted to get that off my chest. First time anyone’s actually asked me that in a long time.”

“Well, to be fair to Louis, he hasn’t had to ask since you started your meds back up, because you just blurt everything out when it pops into your head.” Liam points out.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” Niall shrugs. “It’s not exactly like I enjoy talking about this stuff. But, if you’re going to ask, I might as well answer honestly. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Liam nods.

“Are you living with Louis?” Niall asks.

“Um, not exactly.” Liam says with a sheepish blush. “Like- I still have my flat and everything. We’re not quite there, but we’re thinking about it when my lease runs out next year.”

“You called it ‘our bathroom’.” Niall points out.

“Well, I’m kind of living with him right now.” Liam shrugs. “While you’re here.”

“Because he doesn’t trust me to be alone?” Niall asks. “Or because he doesn’t want to be alone with me?”

“Neither.” Liam says adamantly. “Because we both know that he can be a bit intense, and we both thought it would be a good idea for you to have someone to vent to if he’s pushing too hard. It’s not about a lack of trust or comfort on our part. It’s about making sure that we’re doing everything we can to help you.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out. He doesn’t know what else to say, honestly.

“Besides, I really like starting my day out by waking up with him.” Liam hums.

“I kind of hate how you guys have it so easy.” Niall admits. “I hate how you can just meet and fall in love and make it work because you’re both good for each other. I know it’s not all perfect, but you two have each other at the end of the day, and I kind of hate you both for it.”

“He’s really got you messed up, hasn’t he?” Liam asks quietly.

“I was messed up long before Harry came into the picture, and I’ll still be messed up long after he’s out of it again.” Niall says, shaking his head. “That’s why he can’t be in the picture. His picture should be nice and bright and beautiful, and it can’t be with me in it. I can’t make his picture worse just to make my own better.”

“Did you ever think that you might make his better by being in it?” Liam asks. “You make him happy when you’re not pushing him away, so isn’t that enough to make it better?”

“Turn out your pockets.” Niall demands, stopping and turning towards Liam.

“What?” Liam questions, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“Take what’s in your pockets out.” Niall says, enunciating the words slowly.

“Niall-” Liam sighs.

“Fine.” Niall huffs, stepping forward and shoving his hands into Liam’s pockets. Liam doesn’t even protest. He just stands there, looking guilty as Niall pulls out his prize. He holds the cuffs up in front of Liam and says, “This is why I could never make him happy. Not really. You can’t even take a walk with me for half an hour without needing a backup plan in case I become dangerous. How could I ever expect him to live his whole life like this? How could that ever really make him happy if he has to be ready for me to have a violent episode at literally any moment, for any number of reasons?”

“Niall-” Liam tries again.

“I’m dangerous, Liam.” Niall cuts him off. “I have killed someone. I almost killed Eoghan, and I would have done it if Harry hadn’t pulled me off of him. I felt him dying. I felt his throat beginning to collapse when I tried to choke the life out of him. That wasn’t even an episode. I wanted to do it. I can’t be with him when I have that kind of monster inside of me. I can’t risk ever hurting him. I won’t.”

“Harry’s a big boy, Niall.” Liam says gently. “He can take care of himself.”

“He shouldn’t have to.” Niall mutters. “Not like that.”

“How many times have I used these, Niall?” Liam asks, taking back the speedcuffs. “How many times have you gone into a violent episode and forced me to use these?”

“None, technically.” Niall acquiesces, because Liam got them after Niall hit him. “But-”

“And what about Louis’ stun gun?” Liam questions without giving Niall a chance to finish. “Has he ever used that on you?”

“No, but I did almost kill him.” Niall argues. “That’s why he has it.”

“How many times has Bressie had to put you in the closet?” Liam asks, ignoring Niall’s response.

“Twice.” Niall sighs.

“And, if I remember correctly, they were both before you started working with Louis, yeah?” Liam questions. “When you were basically alone?”

“Yes.” Niall mumbles, rubbing at his temples.

“Your arrests were before Louis too.” Liam adds. “So all of your dangerous episodes happened before you were at the point where you were working properly with Louis, and had someone you could trust to help you manage the stress that induced that state. And you were the one who told all of us what to do in case of one of those episodes. You were the one who told us to find ways to manage you if it ever happened.”

“What’s your point, Liam?” Niall snaps.

“My point is that ninety-nine percent of your episodes are non-violent.” Liam says softly. “What happened with Eoghan is understandable, given the history. What happened in Syria was self-defense, premeditated or not.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still dangerous!” Niall groans, fisting his hands in his hair.

“No, but it does mean that the monster isn’t everything that you make it out to be.” Liam argues. “I’ve seen you control it, Niall. I’ve seen you go months and months at a time without any episodes that hurt someone else. You can tame the monster, and you know it.”

“No, Liam, I can’t.” Niall says quietly. “Mine isn’t the kind of monster that can be tamed. It’s all rage and hate and pain. It’s too wild, and, when it takes over, people get hurt. I won’t let that happen to him.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t put us in danger either.” Liam says flatly. “You wouldn’t be around me or Louis or Bressie.”

“It’s different.” Niall sighs.

“Why?” Liam asks incredulously.

“Because you have those.” Niall says, pointing to the cuffs in Liam’s hands. “And Louis has the stun-gun. And Bressie can pick me up and throw me in a closet.”

“What about Ashton?” Liam questions.

“I told Ashton to run if I ever slip into an episode.” Niall mutters. “He knows to get away from me as quickly as possible, and, even if he didn’t, he’s taken self-defense classes and he’s strong enough to stop me. But Harry- Do you know what he does when I have an episode or lose control?”

“No.” Liam admits.

“He holds me.” Niall whispers, dropping his head to look down at Conan, who’s sitting patiently between them. “He doesn’t run or fight, he just holds me. He puts himself right in the middle of it, right where I’m most dangerous, and he holds me. He doesn’t think about himself or the consequences. That’s not okay.”

“That’s love, Niall.” Liam murmurs. “You do the exact same thing for him. You’re doing everything that you can to give him a shot at happiness, even though it’s killing you. That’s why this whole thing you’re doing with Louis isn’t going to work. Because you don’t really want to not be in love with him anymore.”

“Yes, I do.” Niall mutters.

“No, you don’t.” Liam tells him. “You just want to think that, because you think it’s the only way to make him happy. But are you going to be happy without him?”

“I’ll be happy as long as he’s safe.” Niall mumbles.

“Love isn’t safe, Niall.” Liam says gently. “It’s never safe. There are always risks. If he thinks those risks are worth it, then why keep pushing him away?”

“Because I don’t think they are.” Niall answers. “I know they aren’t. I know it’s not worth the risk, because, if I ever hurt him, there wouldn’t be any coming back from it for either of us. He deserves a life free of pain, and I can’t give him that.”

“Niall-” Liam tries, but Niall is done with this conversation.

“I’m going back to the house.” he mutters, walking away before Liam can say anything else.

He can’t let Liam make him doubt himself, because the only thing he has to cling onto anymore is the knowledge that Harry will have a chance at happiness when this is all over, and that’s the best Niall can do for him.

 

“Who are you texting?” Louis asks, but he doesn’t wait for a response before he yanks Niall’s mobile out of his hand, saying, “Better not be Harry.”

“It’s not.” Niall huffs, trying to grab his mobile back. Louis is a shit though, and he springs away from Niall before he can even get close.

“Why are you sending this Ashton bloke numbers and information for your ex therapists?” Louis asks, arching an eyebrow. “And who’s Ashton?”

“He’s the lad I was sleeping with.” Niall sighs.

“Oh, the whore.” Louis nods along.

“Don’t call him that.” Niall scowls. “He’s an escort. Whore makes him sound like some hustler on a street-corner.”

“He has sex for money, Niall. He is a whore.” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll call him an escort.”

“It’s not about how I feel.” Niall mutters. “He’s my friend, and he deserves respect.”

“Alright.” Louis acquiesces. “Whatever. Why are you sending him numbers and information for trauma counselors?”

“Because I’m pretty sure he has PTSD.” Niall admits. “I’m trying to help him find a doctor.”

“Then why the fuck am I not on here?” Louis asks incredulously. “You didn’t even like these three, and they didn’t work for you.”

“Because.” Niall sighs. “Because I don’t want you saying something to offend him. Like calling him a whore.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Louis scoffs.

“Louis, he’s really important to me, and I just-” Niall says, trying to come up with the right way to explain it.

“You don’t trust me.” Louis says quietly, placing Niall’s mobile on the table in front of him.

“That’s not it.” Niall says firmly. “I just- Ashton has been the only stabilizing force in my life lately. He takes everything I’m feeling and just makes it easier. I need him and me to stay the same as we are now, and I guess I’m just worried that relationship will change if you’re his doctor. I need someone outside of you or Liam or Bressie that I can talk to about some stuff. Plus, you’d know more than you needed to about us, and that would be weird for all of us.”

“If I worked with him, our sessions wouldn’t be about you.” Louis chuckles, sitting on the edge of the table. “Just like your sessions with me aren’t about him.”

“But it’s still weird.” Niall groans. “Besides, the last time I introduced you to someone important to me, you fucked him.”

“I’m not going to cheat on Liam.” Louis snorts. “Especially not with a client.”

“You haven’t seen him.” Niall hums, grabbing his mobile and opening up a picture that he’d sent to Luke of the two of them in their suits after the younger lad had asked for it. “Here.”

“Holy fuck, he’s gorgeous.” Louis breathes out. “Does he do couples?”

“Does who do couples for what?” Liam asks from the doorway.

Louis practically jumps out of his skin at the sudden appearance, and Niall has to flop onto his side just to catch his mobile when Louis throws it in the air.

“Nobody! What?” Louis asks, laughing horribly awkwardly.

“My friend.” Niall tells him. “He’s a massage therapist.”

“You know I don’t like massages, Louis.” Liam says with a roll of his eyes. “It feels weird having people poke and prod at my naked body.”

“Right. Sorry.” Louis says with a bright blush.

“I’ll set the food up at the table.” Liam smiles, holding up the bag of Chinese that he’d gone out to get. “Unless you want to eat in here for the telly.”

“Table is fine.” Louis says quickly. “Join you in a mo.”

“Okay, now you can see him as a client.” Niall smirks once Liam walks away.

“Why?” Louis asks confusedly.

“Because if you ever try and dig into me and Ashton’s relationship, or even just piss me off, I’ll tell Liam about that.” Niall grins.

“Tell him we do new patient intake on Wednesday.” Louis sighs.


	29. Chapter 29

“You did good in there. Very good.” Niall says, looking down at his hands because he doesn’t know where else to look. It’s been weeks now, and he still can’t make eye contact with Harry for more than a second or two at a time.

“I love you.” Harry says adamantly.

It’s like a punch straight to Niall’s heart. He should be used to it by now, since Harry has decided he’s going to say it every time they’re alone with each other, despite the fact that Niall never shows any signs of paying attention to the words, but it still hurts. Still makes cracks race over Niall’s skin and threaten to crumble the façade he has to craft so carefully before every interaction.

“Got more than I thought you would.” Niall admits with a gulp. “Especially for a lunch. What’s that put us at now? It’s over three million, right? People are always more generous around Christmas time though, so that’s certainly helping. Plus, it’s when they realize how much they can get back in taxes after charitable contributions, because it’s the end of the year.”

“I love you.” Harry repeats, voice just as fierce and unwavering in its conviction.

“Any plans for Christmas?” Niall asks, looking at his mobile to see that Ashton has texted that he’s running a few minutes behind, but will be there soon.

“Go on a trip with me.” Harry says, just as firm. “Go away with me for Christmas. We’ll go to an island, somewhere warm where we can be naked all day and we can fuck under a palm tree that we’ll pretend is mistletoe.”

“Jaysus.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “I’m spending it with Ash, Luke, Liam and Louis. Maybe Bress will swing by, but I’m not sure on that. He’s got a session on the twenty-fourth, so it’ll depend on the weather if he gets to fly back to Ireland in time or not.”

“Invite me.” Harry urges, scooting closer to Niall. “Invite me over for it.”

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“I haven’t gotten to see Conan in weeks, Niall.” Harry whispers. “Please. I’ll even bring Gemma, so it won’t be about the two of us. I promise.”

“Think you can go the whole time without saying it?” Niall asks. “Because I’d throw you out on your arse, and that’s not in the Christmas spirit.”

“I can and I will.” Harry agrees. “If that’s what you want.”

“And you can be nice to Ashton?” Niall asks.

“Well, you’re not sleeping together anymore, so- Yes.” Harry says with a nod that Niall doesn’t see, but feels from where their shoulders are pressed together.

“What about you and Liam?” Niall questions. “I don’t know what it is about him that you don’t like, but-”

“I was just worried he was going to tell you about what I used to do for a living.” Harry says quietly. “He recognized me when we met, and I panicked. After that, it was just kind of like- Like he had blackmail material on me, and I didn’t like him very much. Is he the one who told you to look me up?”

“Yes.” Niall admits with a nod. “But all he told me about was the show. I don’t think he knew about the porn.”

“He knew.” Harry mutters. “Everyone who watched telly in Britain knew. It was a pretty big- I don’t know- Scandal, I guess? It was all over the place at first.”

“I didn’t know.” Niall shrugs.

“You only watch sports.” Harry points out. “You probably didn’t even know ‘Best Song Ever’ existed.”

“No, but, to be fair-” Niall hums. “I was a bit older than the target audience. And I have better taste.”

“Fuck off.” Harry scoffs. “I happened to have done a number you would have loved.”

“Oh?” Niall chuckles.

“There was one episode where the girls saw me - Marcel, but whatever - without my glasses, and with my hair not styled up, and with my shirt off.” Harry explains. “These bullies had dumped jelly all over me, and I had to take off my shirt because it was stained and another kid gives me an extra shirt. And the girls were like, ‘holy shite, he’s hot,’ so they set about making me look like a bad boy in a leather jacket and tight jeans and with my hair styled differently and contacts. A whole makeover montage, you know? And then they make me sing ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ to really seal the deal. But, then, the girl that I’ve been pining after says that she thinks I’m not happy like that, because that’s not who I am, and she’s right. The whole episode is about self-acceptance, so I go back to normal at the end.”

“Cute.” Niall snorts.

“I know it’s cheesy, but it was fun.” Harry giggles. “And I did a pretty good job on the song, if I do say so myself.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Niall says, glancing over at Harry.

“I wanted to do ‘Jailhouse Rock’, but they wouldn’t change it.” Harry pouts.

“Good.” Niall grins. “The Eagles are better anyways.”

“Arse.” Harry huffs.

Before Niall can respond, he’s startled out of the trance he’s been trying to avoid by refusing to look into Harry’s eyes by a loud honk.

He glares at the source to find Ashton hanging out of his car window, saying, “Hurry up. We’re going to be late, and you know how he gets.”

“Have I mentioned that I hate him?” Harry sighs.

“Once or twice.” Niall mumbles, pushing himself up. “See you on Christmas, Harry.”

“I love you,” is Harry’s response, soft as silk, and Niall just prays that he doesn’t notice the way the blond’s heart tries to beat through his chest at the words.

He climbs into Ashton’s car, watching Harry look after them in the mirror as they drive away. Ashton is too busy trying to find a radio station to notice when Niall takes out his mobile, plugs in his headphones, and looks up Harry’s rendition of ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ on YouTube.

 

“Seriously?” Ashton asks incredulously. “You invited him to Christmas?”

“He pulled the Conan card.” Niall sighs.

“Yeah, and I’m sure the whole ‘you being madly in love with him’ thing didn’t play a part in it at all.” Ashton says, rolling his eyes as he opens up the door to the building.

“He’s promised to be civil, so can you just at least do the same?” Niall asks.

“I’ve always been civil with him.” Ashton argues. “Until he starts something, at least.”

“You almost broke his arm.” Niall points out.

“That wasn’t my fault.” Ashton mutters.

“I know that.” Niall nods. “But he doesn’t.”

“You haven’t told him?” Ashton questions, stopping outside the door to the room they’re supposed to be going into.

“It’s not mine to tell.” Niall answers. “Who knows and who doesn’t should be entirely up to you. As far as he knows, it was just retaliation for trying to hit you, and I won’t say otherwise to him.”

“Oh.” Ashton says quietly. “Thanks. You can tell him if you want to, but thanks for not doing it without asking me.”

“Of course.” Niall nods. “Besides, you know how I try to handle him.”

“And how’s that going?” Ashton snorts. “Because your ‘keep him at a distance with small-talk’ plan seems to have failed spectacularly today, considering he’s coming for Christmas now.”

“The Conan card!” Niall hisses, narrowing his eyes at the giggling Aussie.

“Yeah, let me know how that goes over with Louis.” Ashton smirks.

“Louis doesn’t get a say, since he decided that we’re hosting it at my bloody house for the space and the kitchen.” Niall grumbles.

“If you two are quite finished-” Louis drawls out, opening the door with a glare. “We are all waiting for you, and we’re tired of hearing mumbling through the door. Care to share with the rest of the group what you were discussing?”

“No.” Niall scowls, crossing his arms over his chest and pushing into the room past Louis. He takes his assigned seat, one of the only two in the group, since Louis had decided he was tired of Ashton and Niall just talking between each other the whole time they had their group sessions. Now they’re separated by Louis sitting in the spot between them, and it has made these sessions even less enjoyable than they already were. “Bugger off.”

“Later. First I have to work.” Louis laughs.

The group laughs at Louis’ crude joke, but Niall shoots them all a look and says, “Shut up. None of you live with him. I have to hear it all. ‘Ah! Ah! Ah! Yes, Liam! Harder!’ It's more bloody traumatizing than the shite that landed me in here with you loons in the first place.”

“That’s not funny.” Jeff, a skinny, sullen man that moved here from Los Angeles, and whom Niall despises entirely, says with a roll of his eyes. “This is a trauma survivor’s support group. Don’t make light of the struggle of those of us here who actually take this stuff seriously. We’re working hard for our recoveries.”

“You can talk to me when you don’t flinch at the sound of a bus pulling out on the street.” Niall says flatly. “Until then, shut it.”

“I was hit by a bus!” Jeff hisses.

“And I was abducted, tortured for four months, and nearly killed by Syrian terrorists, but I don’t piss myself every time Amir there looks in my direction.” Niall counters.

“Niall!” Louis barks out.

“He wasn’t even hit!” Niall argues. “He was grazed! He tripped into the side of it while it was pulling out! He didn’t even break a bone! If he’s so fucking scared of buses, he needs to move away from London, seeing as there are literally about eight-thousand of them here.”

“It is not your place to minimize other people’s traumas.” Louis says sternly. “Apologize, or go sit out in the hallway until group is over.”

“Um, I’d also like an apology for the racism.” Amir huffs. “I’m Yemeni, and I’m not a terrorist.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Niall sighs. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be offensive, and I’m really sorry if I did offend you.”

“Thank you.” Amir nods. “It’s okay. I get it. Jeff is a prick.”

“Hey!” Jeff whines.

“Honestly, Jeff, you are kind of a prick.” Louis sighs, taking his seat, followed by Ashton, who’s sniggering into his hand. “But we only have forty minutes left now, and I don’t want to spend this whole session just arguing between ourselves again. He made a joke. Let it go. Niall, apologize.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall says flatly, not a note of sincerity in his voice.

“Asshole.” Jeff mutters.

“Anyway-” Louis says loudly, putting his hand on Niall’s chest to push him back into his chair when he leans forward towards Jeff. “Today, I want to do things a little differently. Normally I know we talk about how your traumas affect your daily lives, and what we can do to minimize the crossover, but today I want to talk about something different. Today I want to talk about how post-traumatic stress has changed the way that you interact with the people in your lives. I want each of you to talk to the group about an example of a relationship that has been changed by your traumas. Ashton, would you care to start us off?”

“Um, I guess.” Ashton says with a shrug. “I’ve only really just learned that I have it pretty recently, though.”

“That’s alright.” Louis nods. “In fact, that might give you more insight into how your relationships have been affected, since you’ve begun to look at aspects of your behavior differently than you were only a short while ago.”

“I guess- I guess the relationship that’s been most affected has been my relationship with my roommate, Luke.” Ashton says quietly. “He went through something similar with his ex, and- And I just feel this need to protect him. But it’s so fucking hard sometimes, because- Because he’s got a mind of his own, and when he sets it to something, he never backs down. He doesn’t let anyone stop him from getting what he wants, one way or another, no matter what.

“And that kind of blinds him. That same boldness he uses to throw himself into everything is what’s going to get him hurt. He doesn’t think things through. He doesn’t care about consequences. He- He’s so much like I was before, and that terrifies me, because I want to protect him so badly, but he won’t let me. He won’t let me keep him safe from the things that will hurt him, because what happened to him didn’t break him. He’s like a child that won’t stop putting their hand on a hot pan, no matter how many times it burns them.

“And the thing is, I know he doesn’t need me to protect him. As much as I want to do it, he doesn’t need me to. He can make his own decisions, and I should be content with letting him do that. But the thought of someone– Anyone– hurting him scares me more than anything else. I’ve let my own experience color the way that I treat him, and I’m afraid that trying to protect him from everything like that is going to end up pushing him away.”

Niall leans back in his chair, not looking over so as not to draw attention when he reaches his arm behind Louis’s chair. He links his fingers with Ashton’s, who finds his the same way, and squeezes. It’s how they’ve been getting through this whole stupid group therapy idea that Louis has coerced them into. Because Niall doesn’t really like people, and Ashton’s not very comfortable talking to them when he’s only recently even discovered that his trauma has had lingering effects. But, as long as they’re together, it always feels easier. Especially since there’s no way in hell that Niall would have agreed to start doing this without Ashton also doing it.

“And what do you think you can do to change that aspect of your relationship to be more comfortable for both of you?” Louis asks.

“Lock him in a box.” Ashton huffs. “I don’t know, Louis. I’m trying to back off and let him do his own thing. I don’t know what more I can do than that.”

“You don’t?” Louis asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Not here.” Ashton says gruffly, squeezing onto Niall’s fingers harder. “If you want to have this conversation, you can wait for our next private session. I don’t need witnesses around to see when I shove your own hand down your throat.”

“Jesus Christ, you two are exactly the same.” Louis sighs, looking over at Niall. “No wonder you get on so well. Stubborn arses, the both of you.”

“Conduct the session, Doctor Tomlinson.” Niall says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got more important things to be doing than insulting everyone here today. I believe it’s Naomi’s turn?”

Niall sort of tunes out after that, his mind wandering to just how much trouble he’s going to be in with Louis when he tells him that Harry is coming for Christmas. And then it goes from there to what Christmas is actually going to be like. There’s a tight ball of nerves in his stomach at the idea of Harry being around like that again, and Ashton runs his thumb over the back of Niall’s hand like he can sense what Niall’s thinking.

Niall looks over to Ashton to find the Aussie offering him a reassuring smile and mouthing the words, ‘It’ll be fine.’

Niall really hopes that’s true.

“Niall?” Louis asks, his tone pulling the blond back into the moment because it doesn’t sound like it’s the first time he’s asked.

“Sorry.” Niall sighs. “Um- I guess the relationship that’s been most affected is- I think this might be wrong for what we’re supposed to be talking about, but I’d say that it’s the relationship that I have with myself.”

“Interesting.” Louis nods. “Go on.”

“I used to be a happy person.” Niall explains, dropping his hand away from Ashton’s to put it in his own lap and give himself something to focus on. “I used to be cheerful and nice and charming. I used to like myself, because I was worth liking. But- I’ve been so fucking angry for so long that I don’t anymore. I can’t stand myself.

“And I know that what happened changed me, but I just- I wish I could like myself again, even for a little while. I wish I could stand to look at myself in the mirror, or be alone for a few hours without thinking about how everyone would have been better off if Eoghan had pulled the trigger on me instead of just knocking me out and leaving me behind. I wish I could like myself enough to understand it when anyone else likes me. But, more than anything, I just wish I could feel like I was worth liking. I wish I felt like it wasn’t wasting someone’s time to let them in.”

“Niall brings up an excellent point about our relationships with ourselves, and how important they are.” Louis says gently, turning to address the group as a whole. “But we don’t have time to address it today. Before our next session, I’d like you all to think about how your relationships with yourselves have changed since your traumas. Think about how you perceive yourself since the events that led you here, and I want you all to be honest about it. Nobody here will judge what you say. This is a safe space. Have a happy holiday, and we’ll all see each other next week.”

Most of the group shuffle out of the door, only a few lingering by it to speak with Louis. Ashton scoots over into Louis’ chair as soon as he’s up, draping an arm over Niall’s shoulder and pulling him against his chest.

“You okay?” Ashton asks, murmuring the words into Niall’s fringe when he presses a kiss to his forehead.

“No.” Niall admits. “But I never really am, so it’s not much different.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ashton asks him.

“No.” Niall repeats. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not feeling that great right now, and I didn’t even mean to say all of that. It just came out, and I couldn’t stop it.”

“That’s kinda the point though, innit?” Ashton hums. “To get you to say the things you’re keeping down inside of yourself.”

“I’m already living with him.” Niall huffs. “We talk about what I’m thinking and feeling for at least a few hours every day. Candor isn’t my problem.”

“Then what is?” Ashton questions.

“Jeff.” Niall smirks.

“Did you see his eyes bulge out when Louis called him a prick?” Ashton giggles. “Wish I had taken a picture. I’d have set it as my background. Looked like he was shitting a football. And then that thing about how his relationship with his dog is the one that’s been the most affected- If you hadn’t been holding my hand, I’d have jumped out of my seat and smacked him for accusing you of not taking this seriously when he can say things like that. Daddy-issue focused prick.”

“I wasn’t really paying that much attention to him.” Niall confesses. “Or anyone else after you, actually.”

“Nobody said anything too juicy.” Ashton hums. “You didn’t miss much. Where were you?”

“Thinking about Christmas.” Niall sighs.

“You want me to be a buffer?” Ashton asks.

“No. I think he’ll behave himself, since it’s about Conan too.” Niall tells him. “Whatever has happened between me and him, I don’t want them to completely lose each other. That’s not fair to them.”

“What about you?” Ashton questions. “What about what’s fair to you?”

“What are the trouble twins talking about now?” Louis sighs, walking over to them. For once he has perfect timing, because Niall has no idea what his response would have been.

“Considering how many times we’ve fucked, I think it’s a bit weird of you to call us twins, Doctor Tomlinson.” Ashton fires back at him. “You might need to see a therapist.”

“Shut it, you.” Louis scoffs, kicking at Ashton’s shin. “Never thought I’d have to deal with another patient just as bad as Niall.”

“He’s much better than I am.” Niall huffs. “At the end of the day, he won’t actually punch you. I will. Straight in the bollocks.”

“You two sure it’s not each other you’re in love with?” Louis asks with a roll of his eyes. “Because the way you two act, and the way you go about jumping to the other’s defense would suggest you are.”

“Don’t listen to him, babe.” Ashton giggles, tightening his hold around Niall and burying his face in the blond’s hair.

“Completely off base, he is.” Niall muses, pressing a kiss to Ashton’s neck.

“I don’t understand your relationship at all.” Louis sighs, shaking his head. “But I’m pretty sure it’s not healthy.”

“Well it works for us, so that’s not really relevant.” Niall mutters.

“I’m just saying, I don’t think Luke and Harry would like it.” Louis smirks.

“Luke adores Niall.” Ashton says firmly. “He’s just as touchy-feely with him as I am, if not more.”

“He snogs me a lot.” Niall nods. “And his arse has been in my lap more times than mine has been in Ashton’s.”

“The little shit.” Ashton grumbles low enough that even Niall barely hears it.

“And it’s probably better if Harry hates it.” Niall adds, looking down at the ground. “Makes things easier.”

“Stubborn arses, the both of you.” Louis says, repeating his sentiment from earlier. “Alright, time to kiss goodbye, because I have to get Niall back home to start setting up for Christmas.”

“Ah, that should be fun.” Ashton snorts. He turns his head and presses another kiss to Niall’s forehead, quietly saying, “Text me if you need me.”

“Like you two ever aren’t texting each other.” Louis scoffs.

“I will.” Niall nods, ignoring Louis. “And same with you.”

“Be nice to him.” Ashton says, standing up and directing the words at Louis. “You know how he is after dealing with Harry, and this one was particularly rough. Just- Just take it easy tonight.”

Niall groans and drops his head into his hands, listening as Ashton walks out the door. He was going to wait to break the news until after dinner, but now he’s got to do it. Ashton means well, but sometimes he shoves his foot right into Niall’s mouth instead of his own, which is not a kink he would ever try. Except maybe with Harry. Harry’s got nice feet.

“Hello-” Louis says loudly, waving his hand in front of Niall’s face. “Earth to Nialler. Come in.”

“Harry’s coming over with Gemma for Christmas.” Niall rushes out, just ripping off the plaster in hopes it’ll make it easier. It really doesn’t though. It still makes him flinch as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

“Oh.” Louis says quietly. “Alright. I’ll have to tell Liam to get enough ingredients for two more people then.”

“That’s it?” Niall asks incredulously, looking up at his therapist. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m also going to have to find two more chairs.” Louis adds, pulling out his mobile. “And you need to text Luke about making two more of those little place setting things he’s doing. I hope my table can fit that many people. It should be able to, if I can find the damn leaf. I don’t know where I put the bloody thing.”

“You’re not going to call me an idiot?” Niall questions. “Say I’m fucking up my recovery by having Harry over?”

“I’m guessing he played the Conan card?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks up from his mobile.

“Yeah.” Niall nods.

“You didn’t stand a chance, then.” Louis shrugs. “Come on. Liam is putting the pudding in the oven, and I don’t want cold pudding.”

 

“Why do you have so many bloody decorations?” Louis groans, dragging the box with the tree behind him.

“Because it’s for Christmas.” Niall says simply. “Stop whinging and go get the ornaments. And be careful. They’re mostly glass.”

“You’re very demanding.” Louis huffs.

“You’re the one who wanted to host Christmas here.” Niall fires back at him. “My house, my rules, as you’re so fond of saying.”

“Why does Liam get to string the popcorn and cranberries, and I’m stuck lugging everything around?” Louis whines, stomping his foot.

“Because Liam hasn’t called me an arse twice today.” Niall says flatly. “Go.”

“I am not properly appreciated at all!” Louis scowls, turning on his heel and marching out of the room.

“I wish you’d stop antagonizing him.” Liam sighs.

“He’s plotting something, and I’m not easing up on him until I figure out what it is.” Niall mutters, turning back to the string of lights that he’s untangling.

“What makes you think he’s plotting something?” Liam asks.

“He’s Louis William Tomlinson.” Niall says, giving Liam an unimpressed look.

Liam waits a couple beats and then looks back down to his task and mumbles out, “Fair enough.”

“If he tries to shag you in my da’s bed, you’d better turn him down, or I’ll cut off both of your dicks and hang them on the tree.” Niall tells him.

“What is it with you and that bed?” Liam asks.

“It’s- It’s where he used to hold me when I was young.” Niall admits quietly, working on the snarled mess of wire and plastic. “We moved around a lot when I was little, because we didn’t have much money before LiveWell really took off. Before I was eight, we’d lived in fourteen different places. A lot of them were little one bedroom flats, and we’d sleep in the same bed, because that’s all we had.

“Then, once we moved here because he started getting paid a lot more as the charity started doing better, I couldn’t sleep without climbing into his bed for the first few months. It made me feel safe. I always knew that everything was going to be okay when I got into that bed and he’d hold me. I just don’t want those memories being- I don’t know- Tainted, I guess.”

“Nothing will happen in your da’s bed.” Liam says gently, reaching across the couch and putting his hand on Niall’s shoulder. “I promise. We’re just going to sleep there tonight and tomorrow, and then we’re going up north for the next few days, so there’s nothing to worry about. We won’t do anything.”

“Thanks.” Niall breathes out. “I just- Fuck, I hate this. I miss him so much.”

“I know.” Liam murmurs, pulling Niall over into a one-armed hug. “It’ll be okay.”

Niall doesn’t really think it will, but Ashton said it, and now Liam has too. And he wants to believe it, so he doesn’t argue. He just stays leaning against Liam’s chest and goes back to untangling the lights.


	30. Chapter 30

Christmas is hell, Niall decides while smacking at Louis’ hand with a spoon.

“Fucking stop that.” Niall growls, glaring at Louis. “If you take one more chestnut, I’m going to shove the whole lot of them in your nose.”

“I cannot talk to him when he’s like this.” Louis says, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “You handle him.”

“You know, one solution is that you stop pissing him off on purpose.” Liam sighs.

“Absolutely not.” Louis says flatly. “It’s how I get my kicks, and there’s nobody else here for me to torture yet.”

“Torture yourself.” Niall tells him. “Torture Liam, for all I care. Just leave me alone to cook.”

“Oh sure, throw me under the bus after I try to help.” Liam scoffs.

“Don’t let Jeff hear you say that.” says a familiar voice from the doorway, immediately calming Niall down. “He’ll get all pissy and then stall everything until Louis forces you to apologize to the prick.”

“Where’s Luke?” Niall questions.

“He wants to make an entrance, so I’ve been sent in ahead to gather you all into the entryway.” Ashton says with a fond smile. “Get your asses out here.”

“This kid is so fuckin dramatic.” Liam sighs.

“Be nice.” Ashton and Niall both say at the same time.

“Can we not do the twin telepathy thing today?” Louis mutters, sliding out of his seat. “It’s bound to be weird enough without the two of you syncing up your brains like this.”

“There he goes with the twin thing again.” Ashton hums over to Niall.

“I think he’s got a fetish.” Niall smirks, walking around the island and heading into the entryway. “Go let Luke know he can make his entrance now.”

“He has a cue.” Ashton mumbles, holding up his mobile and pressing a button.

The tune to ‘Santa Baby’ starts playing, and Niall’s door flies open to reveal Luke in a skintight, red dress that drops down just low enough to cover him up, and a pair of fur cuffs around his wrist. He has really gotten into the Christmas spirit, and Niall can’t help but bark out a laugh of delight.

“Santa, baby-” Luke croons in a surprisingly perfect imitation of Eartha Kitt, slinking into the room. “Slip a sable under the tree, for me.”

He presses his hand against Niall’s chest, pushing him back onto the bench he has for people to take off their shoes, dropping into Niall’s lap as he sings, “Been an awful good girl, Santa, baby. So hurry down the chimney tonight.”

He finishes off his entrance by pressing a smacking kiss to Niall’s lips, tasting of peppermint, and Niall giggles into it.

“Happy Christmas to you too, Luke.” Niall hums, wrapping his arms around Luke’s waist.

“Where’s my favorite boy?” Luke asks, looking around.

“He’s-” Niall starts, only to have the question made irrelevant when Conan shoots through the room and launches himself through the open door. He’s never done that before, but Niall immediately understands when he looks and sees Harry standing on the stoop, staring at him with a mixture of surprise and jealousy. Well, that’s not at all how Niall wanted to start this. “Oh. Hi.”

And it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room as everyone waits to see how Harry’s going to react, but the brunet just shakes his head and crouches down to meet Conan, who’s yipping excitedly at his heels, and coos out, “Hey, buddy. I’ve missed you.”

“I- He’s missed you too.” Niall says quickly.

“Alright, you get back into the kitchen.” Louis says, waving at Niall. “I’ll entertain our guests while you make yourself useful and make the food.”

“Thank you.” Niall whispers, patting Luke’s hip to get him to climb off and then returning to his sanctuary, thankfully unaccompanied.

 

“Hey.” Harry says quietly, taking a seat at the island, opposite from Niall.

“Haven’t got time to talk.” Niall mumbles, wrapping yet another stilton-stuffed date in bacon and shoving a toothpick through it before setting it on the baking sheet with the rest of them. His hands feel disgusting just touching the stuff, but he knows it isn’t fair to expect everyone to do a vegetarian Christmas feast. So he’s gone the traditional route and made a turkey and some pigs in a blanket and now devils on horseback. It has not been his favorite experience, and his father would die all over again if he knew what was happening. “Too much to do.”

“Are you avoiding me?” Harry asks.

“No, I’m trying to make Christmas dinner for eight people, and figuring out how to work with ingredients that I’ve never even touched, let alone cooked.” Niall mutters.

“Do you want some help?” Harry questions.

“No.” Niall sighs. “Where’s Gemma? I haven’t greeted her. I should probably do that.”

“She, um- She didn’t come.” Harry mumbles.

“Harry-” Niall starts.

“She’s sick.” Harry rushes out. “You can call her if you don’t believe me. It’s not my fault.”

“Call her then.” Niall says flatly. It was part of the deal in inviting Harry over, and Niall kind of wants to scream, because he knows Harry would behave himself better if Gemma were around. Sure, she kind of scares the piss out of Niall, but having her here would still be better.

“Fine.” Harry mutters, pulling out his mobile and clicking through until he holds it up to Niall.

Niall wipes his hands on a towel before taking the phone just in time to hear Gemma weakly say, “Hello?”

“Harry says you’re sick.” is how Niall greets her. Not his best moment, honestly.

“Oh.” Gemma says, her voice sounding perfectly normal now. “No, I’m not. But he doesn’t know that. I faked it so that he could come out and see you without me interfering.”

“Jaysus.” Niall sighs.

“And don’t you go telling him.” Gemma says warningly. “This is the best present I could get him this year. Besides, I still kind of want to knock your bollocks into your throat, but it’s Christmas. So- Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too, Gemma.” Niall says, ringing off and handing the mobile back to Harry. He thinks about it for a moment, about telling Harry the truth and calling him out on it to see if he knew that Gemma was faking it, but the look on his face tells Niall that he’s actually upset and offended. So, instead, Niall just says, “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“You should be.” Harry huffs. “I wouldn’t do something like that. I wouldn’t lie about that sort of thing just to spend time with you. I’ve kept secrets, yeah, but I’ve never straight up lied to you on purpose, Niall.”

“I know.” Niall says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Harry says with a huff.

“You should go join the party.” Niall tells him. “Louis knows where my board games are, and Liam enjoys playing Scrabble, even if he’s shite at it. I know you like to play too, so-”

“I got you a present.” Harry says so softly that Niall barely hears it over his footsteps as he walks around the island.

“Nobody was supposed to bring presents, Harry.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“I got this before you even invited me.” Harry tells him, setting a small box in front of Niall. “I went to Ireland last week just to buy it. I was going to give it to you the other day, but then you invited me, and I realized I could actually give it to you on Christmas instead.”

“Harry.” Niall breathes out, unsure of even to say next.

“I have a matching one.” Harry murmurs in Niall’s ear, placing his right hand over Niall’s on the counter. “Do you know what it means like this?”

“It means you’re in a relationship.” Niall whispers, looking at the way that the point of the heart on Harry’s new Claddagh ring is facing his wrist.

“Yeah, but I prefer to just think of it as my heart being taken.” Harry says gently, pressing his forehead against Niall’s temple. “Because I’m not looking for love. I already found it.”

“Harry.” Niall whimpers again.

“You said I couldn’t say it today, and I won’t. Not technically.” Harry tells him. “But you didn’t say I couldn’t show it. You didn’t say that I couldn’t show everyone that my heart is taken.”

“You’re pushing it, and you know it.” Niall mumbles.

“Sometimes you need a push.” Harry whispers.

“Can you just- Can you leave me to finish preparing the food?” Niall pleads. “I’ve still got seven people to feed, because Bressie didn’t get out in time last night to beat the snows in Dublin.”

“Open it up first?” Harry requests. “It’s only polite.”

“I know what a Claddagh looks like.” Niall sighs.

“I got this one special for you.” Harry says, squeezing his hand around Niall’s. “I’ve got a sapphire in mine, and you’ve got-”

“An emerald.” Niall breathes out for him. He doesn’t even ask it like a question, because he knows he’s right without having to see it.

“Yeah.” Harry nods, his nose brushing over Niall’s cheek and making him shiver. Harry takes his hand off of Niall’s, but only to open the box up and show him what’s inside. “I think they make a nice matching pair. What do you think?”

“Why is mine silver, but yours is rose gold?” Niall asks.

“Because it’s the same color your cheeks turn when I say it.” Harry whispers. “Or when I kiss you. Or when I fucked you. It’s the color you turn when you laugh, or smile, or get embarrassed. It’s my favorite color in the whole world now, tied with the blue and gold in your eyes.”

“How’d you get something so custom done so quickly?” Niall questions.

“Money.” Harry hums. “I don’t like to throw it around, but this was important, so I did this time. They got them both done in two days for me, and I paid them quadruple. Well worth it, in my opinion.”

“You- You weren’t supposed to bring a gift, Harry.” Niall says quietly, shutting the lid on the box so that he can’t stare at it anymore. It’s fucking hypnotizing, begging him to slip it onto his finger. But he can’t. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I guess I’m a bad boy then, because I rarely do what I’m supposed to.” Harry chuckles lowly, nosing at the skin behind Niall’s ear and nearly making him fucking collapse with the shiver that runs down his spine. “Santa will just have to put coal in my stocking.”

“If you want to eat tonight, get out of here and let me focus on the food.” Niall grunts out, gripping onto the counter.

“Depends on what I want to eat, doesn’t it.” Harry says, and Niall swears he’s going to explode. This is exactly how he’s going to die. “I’ve got something in mind that tastes good and could fill me up. We’d have to send everyone else away to take care of themselves, though. I don’t feel like sharing.”

“Oi, Harry.” Louis says from the doorway, stepping into the kitchen and saving Niall for the second time today. He’s Niall’s very own Christmas miracle. “Liam’s setting up Scrabble. Niall says you like to play?”

“I do.” Harry sighs, stepping away from Niall. “Not really in the mood for playing games right now, though.”

“Oh, I think you are.” Louis says flatly. “Quit distracting our cook and join the party. Bressie just arrived and stared at Luke’s arse for a full minute before he realized that Luke was Luke. It was amazing. You’re missing all the good stuff.”

“You can’t really expect him to cook everything all by himself.” Harry argues. “I’ll-”

“I’ve got that covered.” Louis cuts in, reaching over and dragging a sheepish looking Luke into the doorway as well. “This one here is going to be Niall’s assistant because he keeps being a little shit and trying to get my boyfriend to kiss his arse, because his knickers have a mistletoe pattern on them.”

“Luke.” Niall snorts. “Taking it a bit far, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Luke mumbles, shrugging and dislodging the strap on his left shoulder. “Is it against the rules to try and shag a hot bloke? I’m single.”

“He’s not!” Louis hisses.

“Then he’s missing out.” Luke says, looking Louis over and pursing his lips.

“Listen here, you fucking twink-” Louis growls.

“Stop!” Niall says sharply. “Louis, he’s twenty. Let it go. Luke, no hitting on anyone in a relationship. Harry, go join the others.”

“Fine.” Harry mutters, walking away. Niall is pretty sure that he’d be stomping if he still had his boots on.

But, when he gets to the doorway, Luke is passing through at the same time, and Louis puts his hand out to stop Harry.

“Not so fast.” Louis hums, grabbing Luke by the arm too. “I think you two are forgetting something.”

“What?” Luke asks confusedly. Louis just points up with a smirk.

Niall follows his gaze, and his stomach drops out as he asks, “What the fuck? Who put mistletoe up? When did someone put mistletoe up?”

“I don’t know.” Louis giggles. “But it’s there now, and rules are rules.”

“Take it down.” Niall huffs.

“No!” Louis screeches when Luke reaches for it. “It’s bad luck to take down mistletoe once it’s been hung! You have to wait until the holiday has passed!”

“Louis!” Niall groans.

“It’s bad luck for the person who takes it down, anyone under it at the time, and the people who live in the house, Niall.” Louis says adamantly. “Is that what you want? You want Luke, yourself and Harry all to be cursed with bad luck?”

“Fine.” Niall sighs. “Whatever.”

“Go on then.” Louis hums at them, though his smirk and dancing eyes are all directed at Niall.

Luke leans down and presses a peck against Harry’s lips, loud and silly sounding as if for comedic effect. Something curls in Niall’s stomach at the sight, even though it’s as chaste as can be. He looks down at the food and starts working on it again when Harry glances over in his direction, making sure to keep his face schooled into a neutral expression.

“Big fan, by the way.” Luke tells Harry.

“Oh god.” Harry groans.

“I even downloaded all the leaked version of your tracks. I had the album pre-ordered, but then they pulled it.” Luke explains. “I still listen to some of your songs from Best Song Ever too.”

“Wait- You mean my acting and singing?” Harry asks. “That’s what you’re a fan of?”

“Yeah.” Luke nods. “I could never get into your porn. I prefer to focus on the tops.”

“That’s what I said!” Louis laughs, clapping his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I didn’t even recognize him for ages!”

“I hate you both.” Harry says flatly.

“Alright.” Luke shrugs, ambling over to Niall. He hops up onto the only clear space on the counter, drawing a finger down Niall’s chest as he says, “You said I can’t hit on people in a relationship. Does that mean I’m free to flirt with you?”

“Don’t expect much back.” Niall tells him. “I’m terrible at it.”

“Mm, but I know from experience that you’re a good snog, so how about you take me back under that mistletoe and show me a real happy Christmas?” Luke grins. “Or you can just kiss under the mistletoe I’ve got beneath my dress, if you prefer.”

Harry scoffs loudly enough to draw Niall’s attention over to him, but then he’s marching away again, and Niall doesn’t know whether he’s relieved or not.

 

“And how are my two favorite people doing?” Ashton hums, setting down a tray of empty glasses.

“I’ve been trying to kiss Niall, but he won’t let me.” Luke pouts, stirring his own drink with a candy cane. “Which is unfair, because he looks really good today. Not fair that he got all done up for Harry and nobody even gets to benefit from it.”

“Please, for the love of god, get him out of here.” Niall sighs. “He’s practically been humping my leg. He’s worse than when Mister Taylor’s dog went into heat and Conan kept going at my couch.”

“But you need a bartender.” Luke giggles, hooking his chin over Niall’s shoulder and grinding against him from behind, as if to prove Niall’s point.

“You’re just pouring eggnog and spiced cider.” Niall snorts, reaching behind himself to pat at Luke’s hip. “I’ll get on without you.”

“But you’re the only one I can hit on.” Luke pouts, running his plumped up bottom lip along Niall’s jaw. “Unless you’re giving me permission to hit on Harry.”

“That’s not mine to give.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, you’ve already snogged literally everyone in the house now. Some bartender you’ve been, sitting there and watching for people to come near the kitchen so that you can jump up and get a mistletoe kiss out of them.”

Everyone except Ashton, that is. Funny, that.

“Then I think it’s best to leave him in here if he’s going to be like that.” Ashton says flatly. “Louis won’t be happy with it.”

“I cannot be responsible for what happens if he keeps begging.” Niall smirks at Ashton. “I’m only a man, Ash. If I end up shagging your roommate on the counter, that’s going to be your fault.”

“Oh thank god.” Luke giggles, slipping a hand up Niall’s shirt, in full view of Ashton while the other one starts to slip down the front of his trousers.

“Just fill these and bring them out when you’re done.” Ashton scowls, turning back towards the door and walking away.

“You’d better watch yourself be-” Niall starts whispering to Luke as a word of caution, only to be cut off by Ashton loudly groaning, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Ugh, just peck me on the cheek and get over it.” Harry says, making Niall’s head snap around so fast that his neck cracks audibly.

Harry and Ashton are stuck under the mistletoe together, Ashton with his arms crossed over his chest, and Harry with an empty tray of napkins. They must have finished up the appetizers that Niall sent out, which means he’ll have to do more. But that’s not really his concern at the moment. Not in the fucking slightest.

Because Ashton is looking over at Niall and Luke, still tangled together and halfway to a sexual harassment lecture from Louis, and then he’s taking the tray out of Harry’s hands. He drops it onto a chair positioned next to the doorway, and then crowds Harry against the doorframe.

Niall’s stomach drops out of his arse as he watches Ashton cup his hands on Harry’s jaw and neck, drawing him forward as Harry stammers out, “Wha- What- What are you doing?”

“Giving you a mistletoe kiss.” Ashton hums before sliding their lips together.

Harry looks surprised at first, batting at Ashton’s shoulder, but it quickly becomes clear that it’s only obligatory, because Harry is melting into it. His hands drop low, gripping tight onto Ashton’s hips as he slumps back against the doorframe and lets the Aussie dominate the kiss. And there is nothing chaste about the obscene way they snog, their tongues visible occasionally as they seem to be trying to suck each other’s souls out through their mouths. It goes on for eons, filling the kitchen with Harry’s enthusiastic moans, each one of which drives Niall further and further towards razzing all over dinner, until they finally pull back, panting heavily.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.” Ashton smirks, not even bothering to look over towards Niall and Luke before he walks away.

“Okay-” Harry breathes out, grabbing his tray of napkins off of the chair. “I get it now. He’s one hell of a kisser.”

Luke makes a noise of disgust before stomping out of the room past Harry, whistling so that Conan drags his lazy arse off the floor and follows after him. Conan would follow Luke to the end of the world, and, given the way Niall hears the back door slam, apparently that also means outside into the frozen bit of snow that’s fallen to make it a slushy, grey Christmas in London.

Niall takes a different tactic. He doesn’t run off, half-cocked. He just takes the cleaver off of the counter next to him and slices it down through a butternut squash that he needs to get started on turning into soup. He’s already seeded and peeled it, so now he just gets to hack it into pieces, and that sounds just fuckin perfect to him. 

Except, after a few swings, none of which make Niall feel any better like he’d hoped, it gets stuck in the cutting board from how hard Niall slams it down. He tugs and tugs, trying to get it to come loose, but it refuses.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” Harry murmurs, somehow having gotten behind Niall during his attack against the squash. He wraps his hand over Niall’s on the handle of the cleaver, forcing him to stop tugging on it.

“I’m not going to hurt myself.” Niall mutters. “I’ve been cooking since I was five. I can handle a fucking cleaver. Get off of me.”

“Niall-” Harry sighs.

“Now!” Niall snaps, glaring over his shoulder at Harry.

“Christ! Fine!” Harry hisses, backing away and throwing his hands up in the air.

“I’ll send Luke out with more food after I pull the sausage rolls out of the oven.” Niall says icily. “I haven’t got anything to offer, so just go away and leave me the fuck alone!”

“Niall, stop.” Harry says firmly, reaching forward and cradling Niall’s cheeks in his hands. “Calm down. You’re working yourself up. You’re going to go into an episode.”

“Being pissed the fuck off isn’t a trigger for me.” Niall growls. “Everybody needs to just leave me alone so that I can do this shite. I’ll be fine if you do that.”

“He’s the one who kissed me, Niall.” Harry says quietly.

“I don’t care.” Niall scoffs. “I just want to be left alone.”

“If you wanted to be alone, you wouldn’t have six other people in your house.” Harry argues, dropping his hands from Niall’s face down to his shoulders. “You’re just stressing out, and you need to calm down before you do or say something you’ll regret.”

“Then don’t give me anyone to say something regrettable to.” Niall mutters, pushing Harry’s hands off of his body. “Just- Just leave me alone, Harry.”

“Niall-” Harry says quietly.

“Please.” Niall breathes out, looking up into Harry’s eyes and hoping that the tears that are blurring his vision aren’t actually that visible. “Please just walk out of this room right now. Go get Luke, and ask him to come back in here, and don’t come near me again until it’s time to eat dinner.”

“If you promise not to be mad at me for what he did.” Harry whispers.

“I- I’m not mad.” Niall sighs. “I just- Need some space for a bit.”

“Then do you want me to wait on sending Luke back in here?” Harry asks.

“Space from you.” Niall says, shaking his head and turning back to the cutting board full of squash. “I need space from you. Luke is fine, and, honestly, probably better off in here with me now.”

“I’ll go get him then.” Harry mutters, reaching from behind Niall and gripping onto the cleaver’s handle. His other arm comes up on Niall’s other side, trapping the blond between them as he holds down the cutting board with one hand and dislodges it with the other. “There. Be safe about it. At least until you’ve got someone in here who can help if you chop off a finger, silly boy.”

Niall feels Harry’s warm breath fan out over his neck, like he’s only a hairsbreadth from pressing his lips to the skin- And then Harry’s gone, walking out of the kitchen quickly. Not that that changes the way that his presence is still hovering all around Niall, clinging to him like a shroud. No amount of hacking or slicing or cutting can push it away either, though Niall does give it a valiant try.

“Luke would like me to tell you-” Harry’s voice drawls huffily from the doorway only a few minutes later. “That he’ll come here when he’s good and ready.”

“Fine.” Niall mutters, looking over at Harry. “If he wants to- What the fuck?”

“I think he might be mad at me.” Harry sighs, wiping some snow off of his face. He’s absolutely drenched in the stuff, at least two handfuls worth covering from his hair, down his face, onto his shoulders, and it’s beginning to slip down the open front of his shirt. But the snow is the least of Niall’s concern, compared to the bright red gash on his forehead, and another duller one across his cheek. “He threw a huge snowball at me.”

“You’re bleeding.” Niall breathes out, dropping the knife and crossing the kitchen. He stops in front of Harry, reaching out and taking ahold of his chin to pull his face down closer. “There must have been a bit of ice in it. He got you good.”

“Niall-” Harry squeaks out.

“I’ve got some supplies in the bathroom.” Niall tells him. “Neither of them look that deep, but I should clean them out. The slush on your shirt is dirty, so it’s not good to have that in your skin. Just takes a little bacteria for them to have to cut something off. I can tell you that from experience.”

“Niall-” Harry tries again.

“And then I’ll see if Ashton has an extra shirt, or if Luke brought a boy’s outfit too, because if you don’t get that off and clean it, it’ll set and ruin the silk.” Niall adds.

“Niall-” Harry grunts out, trying more urgently, but Niall already knows what he’s going to say.

“I’m sorry.” Niall whispers. “I didn’t think he’d react like that. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Niall, the mistletoe.” Harry rushes out.

“Oh.” Niall groans, looking up at it. He’d completely forgotten about that evil little sprig. “Well, fuck.”

“We don’t have to.” Harry tells him. “Nobody will know.”

“It’s bad luck.” Niall points out, cheeks pinking up.

“I’ll step away, then.” Harry says. “Then it’s just my bad luck.”

And then images of Ashton and Harry in this position only minutes ago start flashing through his mind. The way Harry went so pliant under Ashton’s hands, the way he moaned and latched on for support. Jealousy bubbles up inside him like water in a pot that’s been on the hob for too long, and he’s pretty sure it’s going to take the whole place down with him.

“Don’t.” Niall whispers, latching onto Harry’s bicep when he tries to step out from under the doorway. “Neither of us need any more bad luck, yeah?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, transparent as a clean window, but it stops Harry from moving. Niall leans in, pulling Harry down to meet him halfway, and then turns and presses a kiss to the scrape on Harry’s cheek at the last minute. He wants to do it right, wants to pull Harry against him and snog for dear life until everything that Ashton’s kiss was is wiped from Harry’s mind forever. He wants to put everything into a kiss that Harry will feel through New Year’s Eve twenty-fifty. But he can’t, because he doesn’t think he’d ever stop again.

Niall really fucking needs to stop.

His lips linger on Harry’s cheek for a moment, and then he says, “My da used to do that when I’d scrape my knees or summat. I hope the principle is the same, even though you’re older. Go sit down. I’ll be back to take care of you in a minute.”

 

“Stop squirming.” Niall huffs.

“It stings!” Harry whines, wrenching his face out of Niall’s grip.

“Stop it.” Niall grumbles, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around Harry’s chin and pulling him back down again.

“I was much nicer to you when this situation was reversed.” Harry pouts pitiably.

“No, you weren’t, actually.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes, dabbing the cotton-ball soaked in iodine along Harry’s gash. “You called me a brat and you yelled at me. And I was hurt worse than you are.”

“But I’m a delicate flower.” Harry hums. “You’re more sturdy and manly.”

“Yeah, well- Four months of literal torture will do that to you.” Niall says icily.

“No! Shite!” Harry hisses. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I know.” Niall sighs, forcing his face to release some of the tension in the muscles so that he can offer Harry something resembling a smile. He doubts that it turns out like he wants though. His mind is going in a thousand different directions, and standing between Harry’s legs isn’t helping. “We’re almost done, yeah?”

“Can we talk about something else then?” Harry requests. “To keep my mind off the stinging?”

“Just- Just be kind about the subject, please.” Niall says quietly, looking down and grabbing a tube of antibiotic ointment he’d bought online. “It’s been a long day already, but Louis says he’ll consider letting me move back in here again if I can get through today without any episodes.”

“You’re not living here?” Harry questions.

“No. I’ve been living with Louis since I started seeing him again.” Niall admits. “He’s wanted to keep a closer eye on me, and I need more than a few sessions spread out through the week. We do at least three hours every day, and now I’m doing one of his group therapy sessions once a week.”

“Then why are you hosting Christmas here?” Harry asks.

“Because Louis’ place smells like bollocks and feet, and he hasn’t got the space or decorations.” Niall explains, dabbing the ointment onto Harry’s cheek first. “I already had all of this here, and I have the kitchen to make a proper feast, so it only makes sense.”

“Wait, all of this is yours?” Harry asks, eyes widening.

“Is that a surprise?” Niall asks back.

“Well, no offense, but I assumed it was all Louis’.” Harry mumbles. “He seems so gung-ho about the whole thing, and you’re kind of a Scrooge.”

“I like Christmas.” Niall huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s the only holiday I do care for, actually.”

“Really?” Harry asks. “Why?”

“It was my da’s favorite.” Niall mumbles, dropping his eyes down to the tube in his hands. “Christmas used to be the only time we all spent together as a family. When I was little, my brother and I would only see our other parent for two weeks a year. I would go over there for one week in spring, and one in fall, and my brother would come over here for two in the summer. But we switched off hosting Christmas between here and there, and they were the only times in my whole life that I can remember all four of us being under the same roof.

“But it stopped when I was twelve or so. My brother had decided a few years before that he didn’t want to come over here anymore to see our da, and it was when things with me and my mum started to go south. That was the last Christmas we were ever all together, but my da always made sure to make Christmas for the two of us just as big as if the whole family were together. It was always a blown out extravaganza.

“When I was fifteen, and I started getting into cooking as more than just a way to keep us from dying of his awful cooking, my present was this kitchen. He had it remodeled and expanded so that I had ‘a proper fucking kitchen to really learn some shite in.’ We don’t have much of a dining room anymore, because he built into it just to give me this island, and the two ovens, and all of the rest of this.”

“That explains the table in the living room.” Harry snorts. “That’s sweet, though. That he did all this for you, I mean.”

“He’d throttle me for cooking all this meat and cheese in here.” Niall chuckles. “But I guess it’s better than what I did last year.”

“What did you do last year?” Harry asks.

“Climbed out of my window onto the roof, and spent a while thinking about jumping before Bressie happened to show up to check on me.” Niall admits breathlessly. “I- I have a rougher time, this time of year. It’s harder without him.”

“You’ve got us.” Harry murmurs, reaching up and running his fingers through the hair on the back of Niall’s neck. “All six of us are here because we adore you. None of us except Ashton and Luke would even know each other if it weren’t for you. You brought each and every one of us together here. I know we’re no replacement for Bobby, but we can be your family, Niall.”

“He would have loved seeing this place so full of people.” Niall says quietly. “Would have liked me making my own little misfit family. The crazy therapist, the prosthetist built like a god, the music producer who can’t get a flight, the hottest boy and girl to ever live in the same body, the escort with the heart of gold, and- And you.”

“You’re counting me?” Harry asks in surprise.

“You’re basically Conan’s dad.” Niall says with a shrug. “I don’t have much choice.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” Harry scoffs, even as he smirks playfully.

“Hey, it’s the card you played to get your invite.” Niall points out.

“But it’s not the only reason I wanted to be here.” Harry whispers, leaning in so that their foreheads are pressed together. “You know it’s not.”

“I know.” Niall mumbles.

“It’s so fucking hard not to say it right now.” Harry breathes out.

“Well- I didn’t get you anything for Christmas, so you can have one time without me tossing you out on your arse.” Niall offers.

“I love you so fucking much, Niall Horan.” Harry murmurs, curling his fingers tighter into Niall’s hair. “So much it could fucking kill me.”

And, yeah, that’s exactly what Niall is afraid of.

They stay silent for a few moments longer, just breathing each other in, but eventually Niall breaks it by saying, “Better get back out to the party before someone comes looking for you.”

“Nobody will come looking.” Harry tells him.

“Then before I ruin the food.” Niall decides.

“I can help you cook.” Harry tries.

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“Please don’t kick me out again.” Harry pleads. “Just let me stay here with you. That’s all I want.”

“Don’t give me a reason to kick you out then.” Niall acquiesces.

“I’ll be silent as the grave if that’s what you want.” Harry hums. “As long as you let me stay.”

“Go check the turkey when I’m done, then.” Niall tells him, dabbing more ointment onto Harry’s forehead cut. “I’ve no real idea what it should look like.”

 

“You’re lying.” Ashton scoffs to Niall’s left. Niall doesn’t even know what they’re talking about.

Harry is sitting to his right, but he’s not supposed to be there, and his presence is a real distraction. After the last two hours in the kitchen, his pores are already clogged with Harry, and this is just making things harder. But Luke had decided that he didn’t want to sit across from or next to Ashton, so he took Harry’s spot at the other end of the table between Louis and Bressie.

And it really doesn’t help that Harry’s ended up in Niall’s shirt, because neither Ashton nor Luke brought a second one, and Liam has had to use his own because Louis spilled a drink on him. The shirt is too small for Harry, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he probably enjoys the way it stretches so tightly over his chest that it’s obscene.

It’s the worst decision Niall has made yet today.

“It’s true.” Louis smirks. “I can tell anyone’s kink, and anyone’s deepest fear within a minute of meeting them. Why do you think I’m a therapist?”

“Do it then.” Ashton challenges him. “There’s six other people here. Show us your skills.”

“Stop. That’s not dinner conversation.” Niall groans. “Especially Christmas dinner.”

“I have to say, I’m interested in seeing if he’s telling the truth.” Harry giggles into his wine glass.

“Me too.” Luke hums.

“Liam?” Niall asks, hoping for some support.

“Like I can tell him what to do.” Liam scoffs. “And I don’t plan on spending the next few days going celibate for trying.”

“Good choice, darling.” Louis grins, patting Liam’s hand.

“Bress?” Niall tries as his last resort.

Bressie just grunts in response. He’s been near-silent since Louis slapped him for taking down the mistletoe. To be fair, he’d been trapped under it with Louis, and Louis had tried to - for lack of a better word - climb him in order to claim his prize. Niall would have taken it down too. He doesn’t know what Louis’ game was, putting it up in the first place, but they’re going to have words about it once everyone else has left.

“Motion passed.” Louis laughs. “Alright, we’ll start with Ashton and work around.”

“Fine by me.” Ashton smirks, settling back against his chair.

“When you’re having sex for yourself, and not work, you like to be dominant.” Louis says thoughtfully. “Not aggressively dominant, though. You just want to be in charge. And your greatest fear is a lack of any control.”

Niall feels like pounding his forehead on the table. The look that Bressie shoots him upon the revelation that Ashton is an escort just intensifies that urge.

“Lucky guess.” Ashton huffs.

“Bressie likes being called ‘daddy’, and he’s afraid of mediocrity.” Louis says, moving on without paying any mind to Ashton’s critique.

“Horan!” Bressie growls, glaring at Niall. “You told him?”

“I’m sorry- What?” Harry and Luke both ask at the same time, made even eerier by the matching tones of incredulity in their voices.

“We haven’t slept together.” Niall sighs. “I used to eavesdrop on him when I worked for him.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes out a sigh of relief, settling back against his chair. Luke just pouts.

“And I didn’t tell him, Bress.” Niall promises. “He knew already.”

“Jaysus.” Bressie mutters, taking a pull off of his beer. “Move on. Now.”

“Luke likes to be praised.” Louis hums. “Loves being told how good he is, but most especially how beautiful he is.”

“Yeah, because that’s not blatantly obvious.” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. He’s been getting more standoffish for a while now, and Niall’s a bit afraid he’s going to explode. Maybe they’ll have their own private group session after dinner to decompress.

“And his greatest fear is inadequacy.” Louis finishes. “Liam’s is body worship and criticism, respectively.”

Liam looks a bit uncomfortable at the mention, but Louis says it quickly, as if to gloss over it. Niall supposes that Liam probably has it worst out of all of them, seeing as it’s his boyfriend doing this.

“Which brings us to young Harold.” Louis smirks.

“That’s not my name.” Harry grumbles.

“Harold’s kink is emotional intimacy.” Louis says, waving Harry’s comment off. “He gets off on the connection between him and someone else more than the actual act itself. To him, there’s nothing better than being with someone that he cares about, and who cares about him just as much. He’d rather make love than have sex, any day.”

Niall blanches, because the words are directed at him specifically. It’s obvious to anyone in the room, because Louis has got his eyes locked with Niall’s through every word, and he doesn’t so much as blink.

“And his greatest fear is unrequited love.” Louis finishes.

There’s a strange sort of silence hanging in the air after that, somehow suffocating even after people begin picking at their meals again in an attempt to distract from the awkwardness. Louis and Niall don’t bother, though. They’re locked in a glaring match, and neither is backing down.

“You didn’t do me.” Niall says after a few minutes straight of their standoff.

“You’re the host. It’s only polite.” Louis says quietly, finally turning his eyes away and looking down at his plate.

“No, you’ve decided to take it upon yourself to go exposing everyone’s secrets.” Niall growls. “It’s only fair that you do it to me too. Go on.”

“Niall-” Louis sighs.

“Do it!” Niall demands.

“Your kink and fear are the same as Harry’s kink.” Louis finally says, looking at Niall apologetically. “You get off on emotional intimacy, on a deeper emotional connection, but it also terrifies you. Nothing in the world terrifies you more, because it means complete vulnerability, and you can’t let yourself be vulnerable.”

“Now, is this fucking subject done and over with?” Niall asks harshly.

“Yes.” comes a mumble from everyone at the table.

“Good.” Niall mutters. “Because I’d like to finish my salad without thinking about what makes all of you cum. I wouldn’t have picked Caesar dressing if I’d known where this was going to go.”

Harry laughs at that first, loud and surprised so that it comes out as a guffaw. Ashton and Luke aren’t far behind, though, giggling like lunatics. Soon enough, Liam and Louis and Bressie are all joining in to make the room ring with their combined cackling, and Niall feels the tension melt back out of him as he snorts and shakes his head.

Some fucking family he’s made himself.

 

“Hey, you alright?” Niall asks, taking a seat next to Bressie where he’s tying his shoes. “You’ve barely talked to me at all.”

“Just- Just been having a rough go, lately.” Bressie sighs. “Murs was supposed to record the rest of his album with us, but he pulled out after you left because he found another producer. Then the band that was supposed to come in yesterday didn’t even show up, so I missed my plane for no reason. And- And Roz ended things.”

“What?” Niall asks. “When?”

“Last month.” Bressie admits.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niall questions.

“Because you’ve had your own rough go of it lately.” Bressie says, draping his arm over Niall’s shoulder. “And you haven’t exactly been around, either. This is the first time I’ve actually seen you in a month.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall says quietly, feeling thoroughly ashamed.

Out of everyone, Bressie may be the person that Niall least wants out of his life. He’s the only person left who knew Niall before all of this. He’s the only one who knew Bobby. He’s the bridge between Niall’s past and present, and Niall hasn’t even made time to see him.

“Don’t be.” Bressie murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Niall’s temple. “It’s worth it, yeah? You’ve been improving pretty well, from what Louis tells me. Especially considering the things you’ve been dealing with. I know better than most that you need to put self-care first, Niall.”

“I’ve missed you.” Niall tells him.

“I’ve missed you too, wee one.” Bressie chuckles.

“Do you think he’d like them?” Niall asks, knowing Bressie will understand without having to expand on it.

“I think he’d adore them.” Bressie hums. “Louis’ cheeky sense of humor, and Liam’s dignity, and Ashton’s forthrightness, and Luke’s charm. But he’d have a favorite, and that’s Harry.”

“Why?” Niall asks, trying to hide the sharp intake of breath he takes at that.

“Because that boy loves you with his whole heart.” Bressie says gently. “And your father couldn’t have wanted more for you than that.”

“I miss him.” Niall admits, curling his arms around his stomach and burrowing his face in Bressie’s neck. “He should be here.”

“I miss him too.” Bressie tells him. “And it’s okay to miss him. Just don’t go getting any fool ideas in your head like last year, yeah?”

His voice goes strained on the last part, trying to pass it off as easy even though Niall can tell it’s more of a desperate plea.

“Can’t abandon Conan, can I?” Niall hums, trying to reassure him without actually talking about it. They’re very Irish that way. “He’d have to be partnered off with someone else, and Luke would shit on me grave for that.”

“He’d have to get in line.” Bressie grins. “Anything happens to you, I’m taking that dog.”

“Anything happens to me, and they’ll call the charity, and the bloke who’s been doing my follow-up appointments for the last two months will immediately come and get him.” Niall explains. “Because it costs a lot of money to raise and train them. Tens of thousands, overall.”

“Well, shite.” Bressie chuckles. “Guess I can’t steal him, then.”

“Besides, you spoil him rotten already.” Niall hums. “He’d get even fatter and lazier than he’s becoming.”

“You’re one to talk.” Bressie snorts, bringing the hand he doesn’t have on Niall’s shoulder up to rub at his stomach. “You need to get back in shape, wee one.”

“I’m working on it.” Niall huffs, smacking Bressie’s hand away.

“Let me know if you ever want to train together.” Bressie says, giving Niall’s shoulder a squeeze and then standing up. “Or, you know, if you just want to spend time together. I miss you, Niall. Would be good to see you more than once a month.”

“I’ll be better about it.” Niall nods. “I should have this thing with Cowell wrapped up in a few weeks, maybe six or seven, and then I’ll be a free agent. It’ll be easier then.”

“I’ve still got your position waiting for you.” Bressie smiles, shrugging on his coat. “If you want to come back.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to hold it.” Niall sighs. “You need the help.”

“I’ve got a temp doing it now.” Bressie explains. “I’ve had like- Four of them, actually. Nobody wants the crazy hours and the NDAs.”

“Have you got a summer intern lined up?” Niall asks. “Because Luke is at the Royal Academy of Music, and he’d die to do it.”

“Tell him to apply then.” Bressie nods. “Luke’s a good- Lad? Lass?”

“Both.” Niall nods. “Don’t worry. He’ll straighten you out about it at some point so you don’t have to worry about what to say.”

“Thank god for that.” Bressie says, shaking his head. “Luke is half the reason I didn’t talk tonight. Too worried I’d muck it up and say the wrong thing.”

“Well, you have stared at his arse and kissed him tonight, so-” Niall giggles. “That’s understandable.”

“Don’t ever mention that to the lads.” Bressie huffs.

“Happy Christmas, Bress.” Niall hums.

“Happy Christmas, wee one.” Bressie smiles, ruffling his hand through Niall’s hair and then walking out the front door.

“My driver is going to hate him.” Harry mumbles, stepping into the foyer and starting to shove his feet into his boots.

“Why?” Niall asks.

“Because he’s been sitting out front for five minutes now, waiting on me.” Harry sighs. “But I didn’t want to interrupt your goodbyes.”

It doesn’t need to be said that Harry wants his own private one as well.

“Just make sure to give him a good tip.” Niall chuckles. “Five minutes isn’t that long.”

“It is when he’s got eight hours of driving to do.” Harry mutters. “On Christmas.”

“You only live two hours from here.” Niall points out.

“I’m going up to Cheshire to stay the night with Gem and make sure she’s okay.”  
Harry says quietly.

“I think she’ll be fine.” Niall tells him. “I- I’m glad you came. It was nice for Conan to get to see you again.”

“I had a good time.” Harry says with a soft smile. “Even if Conan did spend half his time with Luke, and Ashton snogged me.”

“Like you didn’t enjoy that.” Niall mutters.

“It was a mistletoe kiss.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes.

“A few more seconds and I could have sold it to Étalon as your comeback.” Niall snorts.

“Wow.” Harry scoffs. “Thanks for that.”

“Shite!” Niall hisses. “Harry-”

“Happy Christmas to you too, Niall.” Harry says icily, standing up and walking out the door with one boot in his hand and a distinctly pissed off expression.

Louis appears a moment after the door slams shut and sighs out, “What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Niall asks angrily. “What the fuck did you do? This is your fucking fault!”

“I’m not the one who invited him, Niall.” Louis says calmly. Fuck, it drives Niall insane when he does this. When he acts all high and mighty and logical just because he thinks it makes him the better person. Niall has seen Louis lose his shit over a footy match when he didn’t support either team. Calm and rational, he is not.

“No, but you’re clearly still trying to get us together!” Niall snaps. “Your non-reaction to finding out he was coming, that thing at the table- The fucking mistletoe! You think this is all a mistake, and you’re still trying to push us together!”

“I do think it’s a mistake.” Louis nods. “I think that you two could and would be great together. I think you’re being a fucking idiot throwing away the chance to be happy out of fear. But I’ve been doing exactly what you asked. I’ve been trying to work you through this so that you can get over him. No matter what I think of you refusing to be in a relationship with him, I understand why you don’t want to do it, and I’ve been trying to help.

“When you invited him, I didn’t react because there’s no point in getting angry at you for what amounts to a relapse. The thing at the table was me doing what everyone asked me to do, including Harry. And the mistletoe thing, despite being something I approve of highly, wasn’t me. Whatever happened because of that isn’t on me. If you two are having a fight over something that happened because of that, it’s not on me.”

“You’re such a fucking twat!” Luke screams, storming into the entryway.

“Well, that’s a bit strong.” Louis snorts.

“Ten times my nightly rate, Luke!” Ashton scowls, following after him. Neither of them seem to even notice that they aren’t alone. “Fifteen-thousand quid for one night! I can’t pass that up!”

“You promised me!” Luke hisses, whirling on him as furious as Niall has ever seen anyone. “You promised that you weren’t going to do this tonight! You promised me that you would stay with me instead of going off to get off!”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Ashton sighs.

“And how are you going to make it up to me for being such a fucking coward all night?” Luke asks harshly, stomping into the kitchen and returning a moment later with the sprig of mistletoe he must have dug out of the bin. “Because you had your bloody excuse! You could have finally done it! If not for you, then for me! If you’re going to abandon me to go get fucked, the least you could have done is-”

Ashton collides with him before his sentence is even finished, shutting him up with a kiss as feverish and enthusiastic as Niall has ever seen. He pushes Luke up against the wall, and Luke wastes no time in jumping up and wrapping his legs around Ashton’s waist. And it’s like they’ve completely forgotten that Niall and Louis are here, because Ashton’s hands are squeezing Luke’s arse, and Luke is grinding into Ashton’s stomach and moaning like the world will end if he stops. What Ashton and Harry did earlier is nothing compared to this time.

Especially once Ashton’s hands start pushing Luke’s skirt up onto his hips.

But then the live softcore porn show ends as Louis coughs into his hand.

Ashton drops Luke on his arse, springing back away from him as if he’s been burned. Luke looks up at him with tears in his eyes, and then scrambles off of the floor and runs up Niall’s staircase.

A door slams shut, and Ashton hisses out, “Fuck!”

“You’re not seriously going to leave now, are you?” Louis asks incredulously.

“Fifteen-thousand quid.” Ashton says stiffly, shoving his feet into his shoes.

“Luke is worth a hell of a lot more than-” Louis starts.

“Walk away.” Niall says stiffly, standing up from the bench. “I’ll take care of this.”

“You’re both exactly the fucking same.” Louis spits out, stomping away up the stairs, with Conan following, and throws his hands up over his head as he yells, “Too bloody stupid for your own good!”

“Can- Can he stay here with you tonight?” Ashton asks quietly. “He’s upset, and I don’t want him being alone.”

“You could stay.” Niall says gently.

“I can’t.” Ashton mutters, shaking his head. “Not for this much money.”

“Ashton, you aren’t hurting for cash.” Niall points out.

“It’s not about right now.” Ashton mumbles. “I- I’ve been saving up, because I’m going to leave the business soon.”

“Really?” Niall asks.

“Yeah.” Ashton nods. “I want to be with him so badly, Niall. I love him, but I can’t be with him if I’m still doing what I do. I’m trying to save up enough so that we have something to fall back on when I shut down my services. Maybe enough for me to go to school or something. Because I can do massage therapy, but that’s not going to keep us afloat forever. It’s not even enough to keep our home.”

“Luke doesn’t like your flat.” Niall admits. “He doesn’t even like being alone there. The thing that makes it home for him is you. You could find somewhere a lot cheaper, and he’d be much happier as long as you were together.”

“Maybe.” Ashton shrugs. “All I know is that I can’t do this right now. Not until I have enough that I can quit and be in a proper relationship with him.”

“Well, then you probably shouldn’t have kissed him.” Niall sighs.

“No, I shouldn’t have.” Ashton mutters. “I never should have put that damn mistletoe up in the first place.”

“You did it?” Niall asks.

“Yeah.” Ashton admits. “I- I did it for you. I thought it would give you an excuse to kiss Harry, because I know that’s what you really wanted.”

“Ashton!” Niall groans.

“I saw him give you the ring.” Ashton whispers. “I saw the look in your eyes. I know you, Niall. I know how hard you’re fighting to make sure he can be happy, but I thought it would be nice if you could be happy too, just for a minute.”

“So you kissed him?” Niall huffs. “Sorry- Kiss isn’t the right word. You gave away for free what some people, myself included, would have had to pay for.”

“Luke was driving me insane on purpose.” Ashton grunts out. “I just- I just wanted him to feel it too, I guess. Harry just happened to be the one there at the time. It would have been the same with anyone else.”

“I’m really mad at you.” Niall sighs.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Ashton murmurs, pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek. “You can yell at me in the morning, alright?”

“Just go get your money so you can stop torturing Luke, yeah?” Niall requests. “Because I hate seeing him like this.”

“He’s a cuddler.” Ashton says softly. “And chocolate always makes him feel better, but you have to tell him it’s fat free, even though that doesn’t actually exist. He knows it doesn’t, but he hates his cute little tummy, so he stresses out.”

“I’ll take care of him.” Niall agrees. “Happy Christmas, Ashton.”

“Happy Christmas, Niall.” Ashton says with another kiss to Niall’s cheek and a, “Thank you,” thrown over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

“I expect an apology when we get back.” Louis says from behind him. “Handwritten, and you need to mention how gorgeous I am at least three separate times. Anything less, and you’re not moving back in here yet. But you have three days to get it right.”

“I thought you weren’t leaving until morning?” Niall asks, looking at the bag on the floor next to Louis.

“You did well enough today for us to leave tonight and maybe spend some of Christmas with my siblings.” Louis says with a shrug. “Call if you need to, and we’ll turn around. But I think you’re stable enough for this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Niall says quickly, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll be fine. Luke and I will just relax here.”

“Excellent.” Louis grins. “Then come give me a hug and then go see to the weeping blond in a dress in your bed. Conan is going to be squeezed to death soon.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall mumbles, wrapping his arms around Louis. “Ashton hung the mistletoe.”

“I know.” Louis snorts. “I was eavesdropping, of course.”

“Should have known.” Niall sighs.

“Yes, you should have.” Louis hums. “We’ll see you in a few days. Call me at any point.”

He pulls away from Niall and grabs his bag off of the floor, heading towards the garage where Liam is probably warming up the car, judging by the noises coming from it.

Niall heads upstairs, taking a deep breath before he opens the door to his bedroom. Conan is looking at him desperately, held between Luke’s surprisingly strong arms and trying to wriggle free. Luke has apparently decided to no longer be festive, and has stripped out of his heels, dress and knickers, leaving himself bare on Niall’s duvet.

“Hey, Luke.” Niall says gently, stepping into the room and sitting on the foot of the bed.

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child.” Luke mutters.

“Well, you’re naked in my bed, on Christmas, so I’m not really sure what the etiquette is here.” Niall sighs.

“I didn’t want to be a girl anymore.” Luke mumbles. “It’s easier to deal with it when he does things like this if I’m a boy.”

“Alright.” Niall nods.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Luke asks out of the blue.

“What? No!” Niall squawks. “Jesus, Luke!”

“I’m not offering right now.” Luke says with a roll of his eyes, releasing Conan who hops off the bed and eyes him warily. Luke rolls onto his back and sits up, putting everything on display. “I mean, if you wanted, I’d be down for it, but that’s not what I’m asking. It’s just- I’m hot, right?”

“Yes.” Niall acquiesces, directing his eyes up towards the ceiling.

“At least look at me when you say it.” Luke huffs. “I’m not shy, Niall.”

“I know, but- It feels weird.” Niall mumbles as Luke pulls his face back down by the chin.

“What do you think of my legs?” Luke asks.

“I’d kill for them.” Niall sighs.

“And my dick?” Luke questions.

“It- It’s very nice.” Niall says after a quick glance so that Luke doesn’t get all pissy about it.

“And my ass?” Luke asks, standing up off of the bed and turning around, peering at Niall over his shoulder.

“Jaysus!” Niall groans. “Luke- Your body is fucking gorgeous, alright? Your face, your legs, your cock, your arse, your stomach and arms and everything else- You’re a one-hundred out of ten.”

“Then why doesn’t he want me?” Luke asks, sitting on the bed and dropping his eyes down. “Is it- Is it because I’m gender fluid?”

“No.” Niall says softly. “Luke- There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“There must be.” Luke says through a sniffle, rubbing at his eyes.

“I promise, there isn’t.” Niall murmurs, pulling Luke to his chest. It’s a bit awkward, because Luke is much taller and broader than him, but he just looks so fucking fragile. He runs his fingers through Luke’s hair and tells him, “Ashton loves you for you. All of you. You know that.”

“Then why would he do this?” Luke asks. “Why does he keep breaking my heart?”

“Luke-” Niall sighs.

“I know you’ve talked about it.” Luke whispers. “I know he tells you things. You and him- You’re like- You’re best friends, and I know he’s told you. He’d tell you.”

“I can’t tell you what he’s told me, Luke.” Niall says quietly. “You know that. And you know it’s not fair to ask me to.”

“He’s been taking on more clients.” Luke mutters. “He’s even seeing Louis, by the way. I thought you might want to talk about that with him.”

“You think Louis is his client?” Niall questions.

“Unless you know another Doctor Tomlinson who would be calling him all the time, and who he’d be going to see every week at the same time, according to the calendar on his mobile.” Luke says, pulling back away from Niall. “So thanks for having me eat with him, by the way. As if it isn’t weird enough sometimes with you.”

“Is that why you were being such a shit tonight?” Niall sighs. “Because you think he’s fucking Louis?”

“Well- That, and him kissing Harry.” Luke huffs. “And don’t tell me that didn’t bother you too. I know it did.”

“Luke, you had your hand down my pants and your lips on my neck.” Niall points out. “You kissed literally everyone tonight, and you did it eagerly. Even Bressie, who’s still straight. You’ve been trying to make him jealous for weeks. Are you really surprised that he decided to do it back?”

“Is that what he was doing?” Luke asks, eyes going wide.

“Well, they’ve never gotten on particularly well.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Harry hates Ashton’s guts, and Ashton isn’t far behind.”

“So that was about me?” Luke asks, voice full of hope.

“Nobody in this world matters more to him than you, Luke.” Niall says softly, cupping the younger boy’s cheek. “I know it doesn’t seem that way, because of the way he acts, but you have to let things happen in their own time. If you keep trying to force everything, it’s just going to get worse. He just- He needs time, and he needs you to be okay with giving him that time.”

“But- But there’s hope, right?” Luke asks, bottom lip wobbling. “I’m not just wasting my time?”

“There’s more than hope.” Niall murmurs, smoothing his thumb over Luke’s bottom lip to tuck it back in because he really does feel like spilling everything that Ashton has ever told him. It’s those fucking puppy dog eyes of his. “So how about we go downstairs and watch some stupid Christmas shows, and you can eat the chocolate I keep stashed away for bad days? It’s- Fat free?”

“Okay.” Luke agrees with a nod after a moment.

“But you need to put some clothes on, because I cannot deal with you like this anymore.” Niall tells him. “Like I said- You’re a one-hundred out of ten, and I’m just a man.”

“I don’t want to wear my dress anymore.” Luke pouts. “I’m not a girl right now.”

“Luckily for you, I have a lot of boy’s clothes.” Niall snorts.

 

Ashton sneaks into Niall’s bedroom around five in the morning, thirteen hours after he’d left, and wakes Niall up when the door clicks shut.

“What’s happening?” Niall asks, shooting up off the bed and trying to blink away the sleep in his eyes to see through the darkness.

“It’s just me.” Ashton says quietly, making Niall’s shoulders relax. “I didn’t want to wake Luke.”

“Then shut up.” Niall mutters, pointing to the blond sleeping to his left and hoping that Ashton can see. “He’s only been asleep for a few hours. He kept hoping you’d come back, and he refused to go to sleep until I could barely help him upstairs.”

“Oh.” Ashton sighs. “I- I’ll just go to the other room.”

“No, you’ll sleep here with him.” Niall tells him. “I’ll go to the other room with Conan.”

“Niall-” Ashton says softly.

“He deserves it, Ash.” Niall says sternly. “Just stay in here with him, okay? It’ll help you both feel better.”

Niall pulls his arm out of Luke’s hold, and then scoots to the edge of the bed. Thank god Luke seems to sleep like the dead. Conan, on the other hand, jumps out of the bed as soon as Niall moves. Niall slips on his sock, and then Bobby, not even bothering to boot it up when he can just make do between here and the other room.

“Is he wearing your briefs?” Ashton asks, standing in front of Niall.

“It’s the only things I have that fit him properly.” Niall huffs. “It was either that, or leave him naked after he stripped out of his dress. I took the pants as a victory, because, let me tell you, it was really hard not to fuck him when he was like that and you kissed Harry.”

“Fine.” Ashton huffs.

“Really hard.” Niall repeats, letting Conan help pull him up out of the bed.

“I get it!” Ashton hisses. “Thank you for not fucking the love of my life! I’ll get you flowers or a blowjob or something! Just go before I punch you in the throat!”

“Love you too.” Niall hums, pressing a kiss to Ashton’s cheek and then walking out of the room.

Only, once he gets to Bobby’s room, he has to take a minute. He hasn’t slept in here since he got back, hasn’t been in the room since Harry kissed him, and it takes a few minutes until he finally manages to force himself to get in the bed. But, when he finally settles down and hugs Conan close to his chest, he feels at peace for the first time in a long time.

And, again, for the first time in a long time, the arms he pretends are holding him as he drifts off aren’t Harry’s.

 

“Tell me you didn’t just abandon him to wake up alone.” Niall sighs when Ashton wanders into the kitchen.

“He’s already awake.” Ashton mumbles, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “He made me hold him for a while, but he’s not talking to me. He’s in the shower, so I’ll try again when he gets out.”

“You’re not being fair to him.” Niall says quietly when Ashton takes the seat next to him.

“I’m not doing anything different than you are with Harry.” Ashton huffs. “I’m keeping him at a distance so that he doesn’t get hurt, same as you.”

“There’s a difference.” Niall grumbles.

“What?” Ashton asks harshly. “What difference?”

“You want to be with him.” Niall says flatly. “You plan on being with him, but he thinks there’s no hope. With me and Harry, there isn’t, but there is for him when it comes to you. He needs to know that, Ash. He needs to know that you want to be with him, even if you can’t be right now.”

“So I just ask him to wait?” Ashton asks weakly. “I just say, ‘Hey, I know it’s selfish of me, but can you just put this on hold for a few months so that I can get everything sorted before I can finally be with you?’”

“That would be better than running so hot and cold with him.” Niall says gently, knocking his shoulder against Ashton’s. “It would be better than him thinking that you’re fucking our therapist. You haven’t told him you’re in therapy, have you?”

“I’m not ready to tell him about my PTSD yet.” Ashton mutters. “What if- What if he doesn’t want me anymore when he realizes that I’m fucked up?”

“Do you know that he asked me if the reason that you don’t want to be with him is because he’s gender fluid?” Niall questions.

“He what?” Ashton squeaks out. “How could he think that?”

“How could you think that he’d love you any less for having PTSD?” Niall fires back.

“Because- Because it means that I’m not strong enough to take care of him.” Ashton whispers.

“You’re a survivor, Ashton.” Niall murmurs, putting his hand on top of Ashton’s. “That’s the strongest thing you can be. You’re not weak because of this, Ash. You’re so strong, and you’re working through this. It’s not fucking easy, I know, but you’re getting better.”

“I don’t want to risk hurting him.” Ashton breathes out. “It would kill me.”

“I know.” Niall nods, slipping his fingers into the spaces between Ashton’s. “But you’re risking a lot in not telling him about this. If he sees you have an episode without knowing what it is, it’ll be that much worse.”

“I never let myself get that angry around him.” Ashton says, shaking his head. “And he’d never trigger me. I’d never feel that unsafe around him.”

“Well, he spent half of last night talking about slapping you.” Niall admits. “I know you don’t think he’d trigger you, but he could. And if he triggered you, and you hadn’t warned him first so that he knew what to do, you’d never forgive yourself.”

“I- I’ll tell him.” Ashton says after a moment.

“I think that’s the right decision.” Niall nods. “You don’t have to tell him everything, but you should tell him something. And you should tell him that you’re not fucking Louis.”

“Obviously.” Ashton snorts. “Just- Will you be there with me? You can help him understand better than I can, because I still don’t fully understand it myself.”

“Of course.” Niall smiles.

“Okay, I’ll do it after we go out.” Ashton says, taking a sip of his coffee. “I owe him a shopping spree after last night, apparently, and no better day to do that than boxing day. And you’re coming, because if I can use your leg for sympathy rather than Luke punching some girl or drag queen in the throat because they want the same dress, that will make things go a lot smoother.”

“Fine.” Niall agrees. “I need a new mixer anyways.”


	31. Chapter 31

“This is stupid.” Niall huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not doing it.”

“You’re not leaving this office until you do.” Louis says flatly, lifting his feet up onto his desk. “I’ve got a burger, beer, a pillow, a blanket, and three trashy romance novels. Liam is attending a lecture on sensory pads and reinnervation, and I’ve got no appointments left. I can literally stay here all night.”

“Well, I can’t.” Niall grumbles, standing up from the chair. “I’ve got somewhere to be in less than an hour, and Conan is with Luke, but he hates when I leave him for too long.”

“The door is locked, Niall.” Louis tells him. “And I’ve hidden the key.”

“It’s in your shoe, isn’t it?” Niall asks with a toll of his eyes.

“Shut up. You don’t know me.” Louis scoffs, though he immediately pulls his feet back off the desk and shoves them underneath it. “The point is, you’re staying here until you complete the exercise.”

“The point is, the exercise is fucking stupid.” Niall growls.

“Niall, will you just take this seriously?” Louis sighs.

“How the fuck am I supposed to take you cutting out a picture of Harry’s face and taping it onto a CPR doll seriously?” Niall snaps.

“Well, it’s either that, or I can call him and have him actually be here for this.” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “But I thought we’d take a different tack with this one than Bressie and Liam. You know, since you’re so adamant about refusing to tell Harry how you really feel. Give me permission, and I’ll have him come straight here. He’s in town today, yeah? For that thing you guys are doing later?”

“No.” Niall grits out, sitting back in the chair. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to the stupid doll.”

“Alright.” Louis smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Go on, then. Talk to Harry.”

“Harry-” Niall says seriously, leaning forward and looking straight into paper-Harry’s eyes. “This is fucking stupid, and I’m firing Louis as my therapist again.”

“Niall!” Louis groans.

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Niall hisses.

“I want you to fucking talk to him!” Louis says loudly, throwing his hands up in the air. “I want you to tell him the truth! One thing! Just start with one bloody thing, and work out from there! It doesn’t matter if it’s about your trauma, or your recovery, or the way you want him to split you open like a log! Just talk!”

“You’ve already locked me in a room where I can’t see out the windows.” Niall mutters, gripping onto the arms of his chair. “Can we keep the yelling to a minimum?”

“Shite. Yeah. Sorry.” Louis sighs, dropping his arms back down. “I just- This isn’t exactly ideal for me either, Niall. And I get why you’re refusing to tell him anything when you’ve probably only got a couple weeks left together at this point, but this would be better if you’d actually talk to him. It would be more effective in helping you for you to actually have this conversation, but you’re refusing to, and I’ve done my best to come up with a compromise.”

“Well I don’t know how I’m supposed to like - pour my heart out to this fucking doll with you sitting there watching me.” Niall huffs. “Like- This kind of thing- You let me do it in private with Bressie and Liam. How am I supposed to say the things I want to say to him when you’re here for it?”

“If you’d given me any indication that you would do this properly instead of being a wanker about it, I’d leave the room.” Louis tells him. “But, if I left you alone, you’d probably just dick around for a bit before telling me that you’d done it.”

“Record it, then.” Niall offers. “Like you recorded the ones with Bressie and Liam. You can take a listen to it before you let me leave, but- I can’t do this in front of you. What’s the point in it if I can’t say what I need to say?”

“You make a valid point.” Louis nods. “Fine. I’ll step outside, but you have to actually do this. I’m going to listen to every word before you leave, and, if I don’t think you’ve taken it seriously enough, then you’ll do it again with me in here for it.”

“Why are you so pushy about this one in particular?” Niall asks.

“Because-” Louis says quietly, opening up an app on his mobile and setting it on the desk. “You haven’t made any progress in this area. Your mental health is getting better day by day, but you’re not getting anywhere when it comes to the Harry issue, and you’ve only got a little bit left before you two are separated. I want you to make it through that without spiraling back downwards. I don’t want to see all the hard work you’ve been putting into your recovery end in a backslide, and I think the best way for you to start getting over him is to fully express your feelings for him out loud.”

“You really think this will help?” Niall questions, something fluttering around in his chest that he can’t identify, because it’s half like hope, and half like fear.

“I think that it’s the best shot of you getting what you say that you want.” Louis says quietly. “Just- Just please give this a try, Niall. I know what I’m doing. I know this may seem stupid, but I’m asking you to trust me here.”

“Get going then.” Niall waves him off. “I’ll start once you leave.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis mutters, lifting his foot up to brace against the desk before he reaches into the side of his shoe and pulls out a key. He holds it in his right hand, gathering a paper bag with what Niall assumes is his supper inside, and then a stack of paperback books that are most likely those trashy romance novels he was talking about.

It takes a bit of struggling for him to get out the door with his hands full like that, but Niall is too busy snorting at him to offer any help. But, eventually, he manages to get out and close the door behind him, leaving Niall alone with Harry.

Or- At least- This horrifying Harry facsimile that Louis created with a CPR doll and a picture that Niall is pretty sure is Harry’s orgasm face, if his recollection of that expression is anything to go by.

Fucking, goddamned Louis Tomlinson.

“This is fucking weird.” Niall sighs. “This whole fucking thing is weird, and pointless, and I’m not sure what it’s really supposed to accomplish. What the fuck am I supposed to get out of talking to a doll? Not that it’s much different these days, I guess. From the real you, I mean. You’ve barely talked to me lately.

“I don’t really get it, if I’m being honest. You were so fucking insistent for so long, and, in the last fortnight or so, you’ve just stopped. Every time we’re together, you just shut down. I don’t know if you’re mad at me, or if you’ve just finally let go, or if you’re dating someone and just haven’t told me. I don’t know what’s going on with you, and you won’t tell me. You didn’t even stay mad at me like this after that thing at Christmas.

“And, like- It’s good, in a way, you know? It’s good that you’re not attached to me anymore. It’s good that you’re not trying to be with me. That makes it easier, right? It’ll make it easier for both of us when we finish this bit, and go our separate ways. I just-”

Niall takes a shuddering breath, reaching into the collar of his shirt and wrapping his fist around the ring that Harry gave him on Christmas. He can’t wear it on his finger, can’t let Harry or anyone else know that he has it everywhere he goes, but it’s become a habit for him lately to grab onto it and feel it in his hand when everything gets to be too much. It quiets the buzzing in his head and brings his heartrate down to normal.

“I just wish I knew what it was that’s making you act like that.” Niall admits, averting his eyes from the Harry-doll’s stupid orgasm face. “I wish I knew what I did to make you so withdrawn. Because that’s not you. That’s never been you. Yeah, when we’re alone you can be quiet and soft, but I’d never seen you like this before. It’s like your light has gone out, and that’s not what I ever wanted.

“It’s the opposite, actually. I just wanted to protect you. I can’t help falling in love with you, but I can help what I do with that love, and I choose to protect you from myself. I wanted to keep that light inside of you shining as brightly as I could, and now maybe I’ve dampened it anyways. And the thought that you might have lost it now, when there’s only a few days left before you’re free of me, is the worst part. And I spend every day hoping and praying that I’m wrong, that you’re only acting like this because you’re over me, or because you’ve found someone else who’s actually worthy of you. Someone who could never hurt you.

“But, as much as I want that for you, it also makes my fucking stomach cramp, because I’m as in love with you as I ever was, once I realized it. There have been so many fucking times I just wanted to say it. So many times I wanted to return those words when you still said them whenever we were alone. So many times I wanted to slip my fingers into yours because you were drumming them on something, which is a terrible fucking tell about how anxious you are, by the way.

“I think about that night all the time. Not like- I don’t have fucking wanks to it or anything. I couldn’t if I wanted to, because- Because that night fucking breaks my heart when I think about it. I never should have let you into the room. I never should have let it get that far, because it just made things worse. I was weak. I- I did the same thing that I did with Eoghan.

“I stopped thinking about consequences. I stopped thinking about the future. I just thought about what it would finally be like to let myself feel happy for a minute. With Eoghan, it was like a fucking lightning bolt hit us the second we met. Everything was turned up to ten, and I fell so far, so fast. I got lost in him.

“But, you- Things with you are more intense than they ever were with Eoghan. He never made me crazy like you do. And I fucking love it, is the thing. Being around you feels like I’m jumping out of a plane without a parachute, and- And I know you’d catch me. You would catch me, even though it would leave us both as a fucking smear on the ground.

“And I can’t do that to you. I’ve hurt you. I’ve hurt you so fucking much, so many times, but I’ve been doing everything that I know how in order to protect you from something much worse. Because I am more destructive than anything you’ve ever known. I’m a fucking forest fire. Everything in my life burns when I touch it, and I’ve been setting everything around me on fire for so long, but I’ve been doing my best to keep you from getting caught up in those flames. It’s- It’s not always successful, and I know you’ve got the burns to show it, but I’m letting it take me instead of giving it the chance to consume you instead.

“What happened to me- It didn’t leave enough of me left to be good for anyone. I’m so fucked up. I’m beyond fucked up. I’m just a fucking useless wreck. And I think that’s what he really wanted, you know? Scar had the chance to kill me, he wanted to kill me, but he wanted me to suffer more before I died. I survived everything he did to me, and he took that as an insult.

“But it wasn’t him who did all this to me, in the end. He took the most swings, but Eoghan is the one that broke me open and let everything pour out. And you have more power over me than Eoghan ever did. It’s fucking terrifying. It scares me more than you can imagine, because it’s been taking everything I have in me not to just give in. I’ve never been able to fight for myself, to take care of myself, but I fought for him, and I’ve been fighting for you too. I’ve been fighting so that you can be happy, because that’s the only thing that really matters to me. And if I need to let the monster loose a little to scare you off, that’s what I have to do, because at least you’ll be safe in the long run.

“Just- Just please don’t let that light be gone, Harry. Please, please, please don’t let it be gone.”

He can’t get anything else out after that. His airway closes itself off with choked cries rather than words, and he sobs into the hand that isn’t desperately clutching at his ring, and can’t even stop himself when Louis reenters the room and wraps his arms around Niall’s shoulders.

“Let it out.” Louis whispers, holding Niall even tighter when he clutches at Louis’ shirt.

“I fucking hate this!” Niall wheezes out between sobs, his lungs trying valiantly to fill themselves. They can barely keep up, and it just increases the pain in his chest until he manages to get himself under control after too many minutes to count.

His eyes are burning, and his chest is heaving, and his body is sore from curling in on itself so tightly- but he does manage to stop.

“Can- Can you just listen to the recording already so that I can go?” Niall mutters, wiping at his eyes once he can speak properly again, though his voice feels like gravel in his throat.

“No need.” Louis says, tapping away on his mobile. “Recording it was just a precaution to make sure you actually did it. My goal here was to get you to outwardly express these feelings instead of bottling them all up inside. Given the dam that just burst, I’ll assume it did its job. What you have to say to Harry isn’t my concern.”

“What?” Niall asks weakly.

“But it is yours.” Louis continues. “I’ve just sent you the recording in an email, and, if you ever feel yourself slipping around him in these last few days, I want you to listen to it. Remind yourself why you’re doing all this. Let your own words tell you exactly what this is about. Now I’m deleting the recording and the email, that way you’re the only one who has access to it.”

“Louis?” Niall says quietly, slipping his ring back into his shirt before Louis can be bothered to notice him clinging to it.

“Yes?” Louis asks back.

“Where did you get this picture of Harry?” Niall questions.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Louis gasps, speeding towards the door. “It’s fifteen minutes before you have to be somewhere.”

He’s gone before Niall can even push himself out of his chair. He’s a lucky bastard that Niall can’t chase him down.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Niall mutters, walking into the room, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck. “Fucking almost died three times on the way into this place. You need to salt the sidewalk out front.”

“That is city property, and not our responsibility.” Taryn, a distinctly rodent-faced ‘hospitality aide’ assigned to help Niall and Harry with their venue choices, tells him haughtily. Niall dislikes her even more than he did just having to set up this appointment on the phone, where it was just her grating Boston accent that made him want to tear his hair out. “However, we will make sure that they are taken care of on the night of your event, for an additional fee.”

“Of course.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Couldn’t possibly make this place safe without charging a few hundred extra quid for it. Doesn’t matter that we’ve got all manner of people with artificial limbs or wheelchairs coming.”

“Your guest list is your concern, Mister Horan.” Taryn says, looking down at a clipboard. Niall has never hit a woman before, never even considered it, but this one makes him wish he could reconsider his morality.

“Sorry!” comes a familiar squawk, accompanied by the sound of boots slapping against the floor. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Where’s James?” Niall asks, looking for the chubby-cheeked ball of sunshine of a man who founded and runs All Dogs go to Heaven. He’s supposed to have been coming down here with Harry.

“With his daughter.” Harry says quietly.

“Shit.” Niall breathes out, immediately understanding the situation. James’ daughter has Kanner’s autism, and is why he even founded the charity in the first place. Niall has met her a few times around the office when reporting in to James about their progress and future planned events, and she’s the sweetest little girl. “Is she okay?”

“She had a panic attack, but she’s okay.” Harry nods. “Apparently it was bad enough that James felt he should stay behind. He said he trusts us to make these decisions.”

“Did he give you the budget and everything?” Niall asks. “Authorization for allocation of funds?”

“He said it should be your job.” Harry grumbles. “According to him, I have a tendency to be overly flamboyant and not particularly shrewd with money.”

“Alright.” Niall agrees hesitantly. “He does realize this is supposed to be big though, right? Like- It’s themed as a casino. It’s got to be glitz and glamour.”

“I know.” Harry huffs. “That’s what I told him. It’s right up my alley, but no. He says that you’re more- Have you been crying?”

“No.” Niall mutters, turning back to Taryn. “This is everyone, apparently. Why don’t you go ahead and show us to the grand ballroom, then?”

“Are you sure you’ll be needing such a big space?” Taryn asks snidely, leading the way down a corridor. “Many people think they do, but then end up realizing that they don’t. Ten-thousand square feet is a lot of space.”

“We’re expecting a large crowd.” Niall tells her. “And we need the extra space for the actual events.”

“What is this again?” Taryn asks, looking between them with a pinched look on her rat face. “A wedding?”

“No!” Harry rushes out, flushing brightly. “No! Jesus! Not a wedding!”

“It’s a charity gala.” Niall says, trying to ignore the sharp spike of pain in his chest at the way Harry so vehemently denied that guess. When Niall glances down out of the corner of his eye, he doesn’t even see the ring that was sitting on Harry’s finger only five weeks ago. Things really have changed.

“A three night charity gala?” Taryn asks, drawing her eyebrows together. If she’s going to put such bad highlights in her hair, she probably should have dyed those too. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Have you ever heard of a three night wedding?” Niall fires back at her.

“No.” she concedes. “I am warning you though, it is a lot of space.”

“I’m aware.” Niall says dryly.

Taryn opens the door to the grand ballroom, smirking over at them. She obviously expected a stunned reaction, and, to be fair, the room deserves one. It’s opulent to the extreme, half a dozen crystal chandeliers fixed on the vaulted ceiling and several balconies and alcoves on the walls of the massive space. But Niall has been in rooms like this literally hundreds of times, and Harry seems too busy studying his own feet to be bothered to give it more than a cursory glance.

“How many does it seat?” Niall asks, looking around and already setting everything up in his mind. “With the stage, before you ask.”

“Eleven-hundred.” Taryn says with a poorly concealed scowl. “Six hundred if you want a dance floor.”

“We’ll need a dance floor.” Niall nods. “And then more space on the outside edges for the games.”

“How many are you looking to seat?” Taryn asks.

“Seating for three-hundred-fifty per night.” Niall tells her. It’s a bit optimistic, but he has his plans in mind that should bring the count close.

“That can be arranged.” Taryn says, scribbling on her clipboard. “Catering?”

“Seated and cocktail. And at least two full bars.” Niall nods. “Preferably three, but let me finish setting up the space in my head first before I decide.”

“You do understand this will be expensive.” Taryn hums.

“I’m fully aware of cost.” Niall tells her. “I’ve got twenty thousand per night budgeted right now for the room, tables and chairs, dance floor, valet service, stage and equipment, the bars, catering and staff. That should cover it, no?”

“I’ll have to run a tally, but that should be adequate, yes.” Taryn nods.

“It’s definitely more than enough at Grosvenor House, which is where we had a meeting yesterday.” Niall tells her. “Go run the tally. I need to set everything up in my head and see if this place is ‘adequate.’”

“We aren’t seeing Grosvenor House until tomorrow.” Harry whispers once Taryn has shuffled off back to her little nest where she belongs.

“I know.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “But they’re competitors, and she’ll bring back an offer that’s cheaper than we’d get otherwise. They hike up the prices ridiculously high unless they know you mean business.”

“That’s rude.” Harry huffs.

“It’s business.” Niall says with a shrug, walking towards the stage to get a better look around the room for his setup. “This whole thing is a dance. You just have to be the better dancer. If it’s more than fifty for everything for all three nights, I’m going to walk.”

“The last budget James had been looking at was one-hundred-thousand for the event itself.” Harry reminds him. “Which is what you talked him into.”

“I needed breathing room.” Niall explains. “I’m going to try to do this whole thing for seventy thousand, plus the hundred-thousand for the purse, which we should get back at the end of it all, if you play your cards right.”

“I still say this idea is insane.” Harry mumbles. “It should be you playing, not me.”

“It’s a celebrity charity poker tournament, Harry.” Niall says, rubbing at his temple. “I’m not a celebrity. You are. Kind of.”

“And is the headline ‘Porn Star Wins Big at Dog Charity Poker Game’ really what we want out there?” Harry hisses.

“You’ve been out of porn for over a year.” Niall says gently. “You’re going to be giving a concert. People are going to be thinking about what you’re doing now, not what you did then.”

“I never wanted to be a celebrity again.” Harry mutters, sitting down on the edge of the stage.

“I know.” Niall sighs, lowering himself down next to Harry. “And I’m sorry about this. I know- I know you aren’t excited. I know this is going to be hard. But if your name can help draw people in, then it’s worth it, yeah?”

“What if it wrecks everything?” Harry asks in a whisper, looking at his fingers. “What if it destroys the credibility you’ve been working so hard to build?”

“You’ve been building that credibility too, Harry.” Niall says softly. “When people see how much you’ve done for this charity, nothing in your past will matter. You can make a new image for yourself.”

“Or I could bring this whole thing crashing down around our ears.” Harry mutters.

“You’ve helped raise over four million pounds for this facility already.” Niall reminds him, placing his hand on Harry’s knee. “That’s more than they’ve made in the whole time they’ve been around. You’re good at this. You’re good for them.”

“Really?” Harry asks weakly, clutching onto Niall’s hand. “Because I don’t think I will be.”

“I know you’ve got this, Harry.” Niall murmurs. “I have absolute faith in you.”

“I thought you weren’t a believer.” Harry says, looking up to meet Niall’s eyes.

“I don’t have to be when it comes to you.” Niall breathes out. “I already know. There’s nothing I’ve ever been surer about than that you’re incomparably good.”

“I’ve just spoken to my manager, and we’ve decided on a deal that I hope will be pleasing to all parties.” Taryn says loudly, accompanied by the click of her heels as she makes her way across the room. Why she didn’t just appear in a flash of sulfur-scented smoke is beyond Niall. It must be more convenient for her to travel that way than by walking. “Sixteen thousand per night for everything.”

“Perfect.” Niall says, lowering himself down from the edge of the stage. Despite her demonic side, Taryn has actually done Niall a favor, because Niall was half a second away from letting everything he said to that stupid doll earlier spill out of his mouth. “Now, let’s talk catering.”

 

“I like this one.” Niall says, pointing to the lobster puff and bacon-wrapped medallion of filet mignon stacked together.

“You didn’t even eat it.” Harry sighs.

“But it’s surf and turf.” Niall says with a shrug. “That’s like- Vegas in a nutshell. Overindulgence and all that.”

“Give me a second.” Harry mumbles, scooting his plate out of the way and pulling over one of the pieces that Niall had pointed at. He cuts into it delicately, popping it into his mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. Once he swallows, he says, “Okay, it’s fine.”

“You don’t like it?” Niall asks.

“I’m just eating an awful lot.” Harry mumbles, rubbing at his stomach. “I expected you to help out more.”

“Well, I’m eating everything that doesn’t have meat.” Niall offers. “It’s not my fault almost everything does.”

“I know.” Harry says quietly. “I feel a bit bad for you, actually. This is all really tasty.”

“Well don’t rub it in.” Niall huffs. “Half of these would be good if they didn’t have mutilated animal carcasses on top of them.”

“Can you not put it like that?” Harry groans, grimacing at the rest of the food in front of him.

“Sorry.” Niall sighs. “Had a Bobby moment.”

“My sister and Bobby never would have stood a chance.” Harry snorts. “She loves a good bacon sarnie too much.”

“Can we not put the idea of your sister and my father getting together on the table?” Niall hisses.

“Why not?” Harry pouts. “She had such a crush on him.”

“Because that would have meant I had sex with my uncle.” Niall says flatly. “You realize that, right? You would be my uncle. I would be your nephew.”

“Gross!” Harry says with a wince. “Okay, bad subject. Move on.”

“I’ve never seen you actually do up the buttons on a shirt to your neck.” Niall hums, digging through his little cup of salad. “You look proper fancy. Got a date after this or summat?”

The joke slips out of his mouth like it would with Bressie or Ashton, but it doesn’t have the same effect. No sooner are the words out of his mouth than it feels like something has shattered in the air around them. Harry’s cheeks pink up as his eyes dart down to the plate in front of him, and Niall’s heart stops working when he realizes it’s a very likely possibility that it’s true.

“Oh god-” Niall breathes out. “You do. Fuck. Sorry. I-”

“I don’t.” Harry says quickly, shaking his head. “I just- When you said it, I thought that this kind of feels like one. Eating alone at a fancy place- Talking- Dancing around the elephant in the room- It just- It feels a little like a date.”

“Oh.” Niall says quietly. “I- I didn’t-”

Niall doesn’t get the rest of his sentence out before his heart stops again, because his mobile starts ringing. It’s Luke’s ringtone, ‘Dude Looks Like a Lady’, and, if Luke’s calling him now, it can’t be good. Luke never calls when he’s got Conan and Niall is out on the job.

“Fuck!” Niall hisses, fishing his mobile out of his pocket. He pulls it up to his ear, answering with a slide of his thumb, and asks, “Luke? What’s wrong?”

“Conan is fine.” is the first thing Luke says. “It’s, um- It’s Ashton.”

“What’s happening?” Niall asks worriedly, pushing himself out of his seat. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s just-” Luke sighs. “He’s really agitated. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s skittish and snappy and I don’t know what to do. He won’t let me near him, and he lost his shit and threw a glass at the wall, and I think he’s having a breakdown.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t go near him, okay?” Niall requests. “Just wait until I get there.”

“Should I call Louis?” Luke asks.

“Yes, but I’m going to get there first.” Niall tells him, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “Louis should be at home by now, but I’m not too far. I’ll be there as fast as I can. And, seriously, Luke, don’t go near him. Please just listen to me on this.”

“I’ll see you when you get here.” Luke says, ringing off as a scream filters through the speaker.

“I have to go.” Niall says to Harry, shoving his mobile in his pocket.

“Is it Conan?” Harry asks, standing up out of his chair. “Luke normally watches him, yeah?”

“It’s Ashton.” Niall explains, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “I think he’s about to have an- He’s got a problem, and he needs me. I’m really sorry about this.”

“I can drive you.” Harry tells him.

“No, you need to stay here and pick out what we’re going to serve, and the table decorations, and all that.” Niall reminds him.

“Without you?” Harry asks through a gulp. “But James wanted you to do this.”

“You’ve got this, Harry.” Niall says softly, pushing Harry back down into his seat. “I know you do. This is what I’ve been training you for, for the last five months. And you don’t have to worry about everything. Just-”

“The meals and the decorations and the color scheme and the lighting and the signature drinks.” Harry scoffs.

“Harry-” Niall sighs. “I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch like this unless it was an emergency. You know that. Please tell me you know that.”

“It’s just convenient that you’re running out after what I said.” Harry mutters.

“This isn’t about that.” Niall says firmly. “This is about my best friend having a crisis that I think could have very bad repercussions if I don’t get there and help him. He needs me. This has nothing to do with what you said.”

“Niall-” Harry says flatly.

“He has PTSD, Harry.” Niall breathes out. “He’s been seeing Louis for a few months now, but I think he’s on the verge of an episode. And I shouldn’t be telling you this, because it’s not my right, but you need to understand that I’m not doing this because you said something like that. I’m not abandoning you over something like that. I wouldn’t do something like that. I just need to help him.”

“Go.” Harry whispers. “I believe you, so go.”

“Thank you.” Niall murmurs, squeezing Harry’s hand and then heading for the door.

It takes no time at all to find a cab, because a woman is being helped out of one right in front of the hotel. Niall cautiously makes his way across the ice, and slides into the backseat as she starts being led inside with her bags on a trolley. Niall gives the cabbie Ashton’s address, and then worries at his nails with his teeth as he watches the minutes tick by on the short ride from the London Hilton on Park Lane down into Kensington.

It only takes about fifteen minutes in total, but Niall’s nerves are so shot by the time that they pull up to Ashton’s building that Niall just hurls every note in his wallet at the cabbie. He’s getting one hell of a tip.

Niall makes his way inside to the lift, and nearly loses his mind because it takes so long to get to the third floor, where Luke and Ashton live. He hobbles down the hall, and knocks on the door once he reaches their flat.

Luke pulls it open, hiding half his face as he gestures for Niall to come in, saying, “He’s in his room. He’s locked himself in there, and he won’t come out.”

“What-” Niall starts to ask, until he sees Luke’s face. There’s a dark bruise already forming around his right eye, and Niall’s stomach drops out. “What happened to your face?”

“I didn’t listen to you.” Luke mutters. “I- I thought I could talk him down before you got here. Only- He kept fucking pacing around, and he wouldn’t stay still, so- So I grabbed his wrist. He lost it as soon as I did. He turned around and punched me, and he wouldn’t stop screaming and thrashing until I pinned him to the wall and yelled his name. Then he came back, and he ran off to his room and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Jesus.” Niall breathes out. It’s hard to believe that Luke could pin Ashton down during an episode, but then Niall remembers that Luke only tries to make himself appear smaller. He’s tall, and he’s muscular, and he’s definitely got what it takes to defend himself. “Are you okay?”

“It looks worse than it is.” Luke waves him off. “I’m fine. I was a bit shaken, but I know that wasn’t him. It was the PTSD. Ashton would never lay a hand on me.”

“He wouldn’t.” Niall agrees. “Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll talk to him.”

“End of that hall.” Luke tells Niall, pointing through the kitchen. “He won’t open up for me, though.”

“Because he’s going to be terrified.” Niall says quietly. “But I’m going to talk to him. And then, when I’m done, you’re going to need to. And I need you to be completely honest with him. If you’re pissed off or scared or want to move out or whatever, you need to tell him. Don’t hold back for his feelings, because this is going to be a crucial moment in his recovery, okay? He needs to know exactly what you’re feeling, no matter how bad it is.”

“Okay.” Luke nods.

“I’ll call for you when we’re ready.” Niall adds. “If Louis gets here first, then send him back.”

“I will.” Luke says, pushing Niall towards the hallway. Jesus, but he’s assertive when he’s a boy. “Go.”

Niall walks down the hall to find Conan sitting by Ashton’s door, and he leans down to press a kiss to the lab’s head before he raps his knuckles against the door and calls out, “Ashton, open up the door for me.”

“Just you?” Ashton’s muffled voice asks through the door a few moments later.

“Just me and Conan.” Niall tells him. “Open the door.”

Niall hears a quiet, “Okay,” before the door is creaking open a few inches for Ashton to peer out. “Where’s Luke?”

“Waiting in the living room because he’s learned to listen to me now.” Niall sighs. “Let me in the bloody room, or I’m going to lose my bloody mind.”

“No need to bust out two ‘bloody’s in one go.” Ashton mumbles, opening up the door and shuffling back towards the bed with his duvet wrapped around him. He collapses onto it, and is quickly followed by Conan, who jumps up and dumps himself on top of Ashton’s chest. “I guess Luke told you what happened?”

“He did.” Niall nods, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “But I want you to tell me your side. What happened to get you agitated?”

“I- I was with a client.” Ashton says quietly. “He’s into S-and-M.”

“Ashton-” Niall sighs.

“I know.” Ashton cuts him off. “I don’t normally do it. But he offered double, and I’m so close to the amount I need, Niall. Just a few thousand more, and I can walk away forever. I’ll have enough to actually leave the business. So I’ve been doing some stuff I normally don’t, if they’re willing to pay more. I thought I could handle it, and I did.

“We made it through the full session, and I didn’t slip into an episode. But- God- I came so close so many times. He left bruises everywhere, and they started really fucking hurting once I got home. And I kept telling Luke not to come near me, because I could feel it. It was like there was something crawling under my skin, and I knew something was going to happen, so I tried to get him to stay away.

“But he wouldn’t. He kept pushing to try and get me to talk, and I just wanted to wait until you finished your thing with Harry, and I’d come get you like we planned, and I was going to vent it out to you. I was managing. I was doing my breathing techniques and talking myself through it, like I’m supposed to.

“And then he said I was being a bitch, and I started getting really mad, and I threw this fucking glass at the wall. He left after that, to call you I guess. I started to clean up the mess, but I nicked my hand on a piece of glass, and it made me so angry that I threw another one. And then three more, because I was so fucking pissed off. And then he found me, and he wouldn’t let it go. He kept fucking trying to talk, and I wouldn’t stop moving, and he grabbed my arm and pressed down on this, and- And then it was like everything was happening on a movie screen.”

He pushes back the duvet and pulls his shirt out of the way to reveal a dark purple bruise running around his entire wrist from where he must have been tied or cuffed very tightly.

“When I came back from the episode, he had me pinned against the wall. He looked so fucking scared, Niall.” Ashton breathes out. “I did that to him. I hit him. I hurt him. God- I’ve been trying to protect him from this, and then I go and fucking deck him in the face.”

“You weren’t in control of yourself.” Niall says gently, reaching out to hesitantly touch Ashton’s fingers. Ashton immediately clings to them, flipping his palm over and lacing their hands together. That’s good. That means he’s come down completely. “You didn’t mean to hurt him, Ash.”

“But I did it anyways.” Ashton mumbles, shaking his head. “I have to end things with him now. I have to- Move, or something. Get away from him before I can ever hurt him again.”

“You fucking will not!” Luke growls, pushing the door open.

“Luke!” Niall hisses.

“Shut up.” Luke says flatly, glaring at Niall. “You didn’t really think I was going to just sit there and wait when the asshole I’m in love with is having a breakdown.”

“Luke-” Ashton tries.

“You’re an asshole!” Luke grits out. “Such a fucking asshole! How the fuck could you do this to me?”

“It was the PTSD, Luke.” Niall argues as Ashton shrinks in on himself. “You said you knew that.”

“I’m talking about him trying to leave!” Luke yells, throwing his hands up in the air. “Over this? Over one episode? I knew this could happen, Ashton. I didn’t ever think you’d be stupid enough to pull something like trying to leave me, though.”

“Luke-” Ashton tries again.

“How much of a fucking asshole can you be?” Luke snaps. “I need you, Ash! I’m in love with you, and if you leave me, that’s going to hurt a hell of a lot worse than that bitch-ass thing you call a punch!”

“I hit you, Luke.” Ashton mumbles, clutching his knees to his chest. “You can’t just shrug that off.”

“Ash-” Luke huffs. “I grew up with Ben and Jack, who weren’t exactly gentle on me even before they found out they had a brother and a sister in the same person. I’ve taken much harder hits than that.”

“I’m supposed to protect you!” Ashton chokes out.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin, I can protect my own damn self!” Luke groans. “I don’t need you to do it for me!”

“But-” Ashton starts.

“No.” Luke says firmly, kneeling onto the bed in front of Ashton and taking his face in his hands. “I don’t need it. I get it. Sometimes, I seem like a damsel in distress. I know I’m silly and flirty and I wear knickers and paint my nails and tuck my dick into my ass and I’m a girly-fucking-girl. I’m a princess, and I love that. But I also learned a long time ago how to be my own knight in shining armor. I don’t need you to protect me. I just need you to be my Prince Charming. I just need you to love me.”

“I do.” Ashton breathes out. “Fuck, Luke- I love you so fucking much. I’m so sorry.”

“You’d better be apologizing for that stupid fucking plan about leaving.” Luke grumbles, pulling Ashton into his lap. It’s so weird to see them like this, Ashton looking so small and Luke looking so strong. But it seems right, because they both melt into the embrace, Ashton burying his face in Luke’s neck and Luke pressing a kiss into Ashton’s fringe. “Because I’m pissed off about that.”

“I’m sorry.” Ashton repeats, rubbing his face against Luke’s chest. “I’m sorry about all of it.”

“I’ll, um- I’ll just leave you two alone.” Niall says, letting Conan pull him off of the bed.

Neither of them even acknowledge Niall leaving the room, nor the shutting of the door behind him. He walks down the hall with Conan, trying to decide if he should stay or leave, when there’s a frantic knock on the door and he remembers that Louis is supposed to be coming.

The brunet runs into the room, wide-eyed and hair tousled, looking around as he asks, “Where is he?”

“He’s in his bedroom down there.” Niall answers, pointing back over his shoulder at the way he’d come from. “But I would-”

Louis, being Louis, doesn’t let Niall finish his sentence before he’s sprinting down the hall. There’s a loud yelp a moment later, followed by the sound of someone running back towards Niall.

“Why the hell would you send me in there when they’re doing that?” Louis hisses when he spots Niall.

“I tried to warn you.” Niall shrugs.

“I would not have seen Luke as the top in that dynamic.” Louis mutters, shaking his head as he walks towards Niall. “Or Ashton as such a greedy little cocksucker.”

“Can you not?” Niall huffs.

“Well- It was alarming.” Louis pouts, dropping onto the couch before pulling Niall down to join him. “Come on. Let’s watch something on pay-per-view while we wait for them to finish up.”

“Fine, but I’m picking.” Niall says, snatching the remote before Louis can grab it. “Your taste in movies is shite.”

“Arse.” Louis grumbles.

“Wanker.” Niall smirks.

He knows he needs to talk about what happened with Harry, and that now is as good a time as any, but it’s the first time in a long time that things with Louis have felt this easy and casual. He’s been so focused on Niall’s recovery lately that he’s kept himself at a distance from their old friendship’s dynamic.

And Niall is happy for Ashton, so happy, but it’s just making things in his own heart hurt all the more. Because Ashton is getting his happy ending, and, in a few weeks, Niall will be watching his own Prince Charming walk out of his life.

 

“Thanks for the ride.” Niall says, climbing out of the car.

“No problem.” Louis hums. “Thanks for getting Ashton to talk instead of continuing to grope Luke.”

“No problem.” Niall snorts.

“Who’s that?” Louis asks, looking past Niall up towards the house.

Niall had been too distracted before to notice, but there’s a man standing in front of his door. Niall has no fucking clue who he is, but his suit and briefcase tell Niall that he means business. God help him, Niall has dealt with enough lawyers for a lifetime. If this asshole is a solicitor, Niall might just lose it.

“No fucking clue.” Niall shrugs.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Louis asks.

“Um- Would you mind?” Niall requests quietly.

“Of course not.” Louis beams, quickly climbing out of his car. He’s not even halfway to the walk before he’s calling out, “Oi! You in the monkey suit! What are you doing?”

“Are you Mister Horan?” the bloke asks, stepping towards them.

“That would be me.” Niall admits, standing next to Louis, who is doing his best impression of intimidating with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown settled on his face. It isn’t nearly effective.

“Hello, Mister Horan.” he says calmly, ignoring Louis’ demeanor. “My name is Marc, and I’m a representative of PepsiCo. My superiors would like me to make you an offer.”

“I’ve already told you people, I’m not coming to run LiveWell for you.” Niall sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You misunderstand.” Marc says with a shake of his head. “This isn’t an employment opportunity. We want to know if you’d be interested in buying back LiveWell from the corporation.”


	32. Chapter 32

“Are you going to do it?” Bressie asks.

“Do I look like I have three-million quid lying around?” Niall scoffs. “They only gave me a month. I looked into it, and there’s no way to swing it. I’ve not even made a million from my work with All Dogs go to Heaven. If we make the last bit at this thing, then I’ll still have only made-seven-hundred-and-fifty-thousand.”

“Jaysus.” Bressie says with a whistle. “You’re making more than I am.”

“It’s not enough.” Niall mutters. “It’s only twenty-five percent. And that money is all I have until I figure something out. Besides- Three million isn’t even all it would take.”

“Oh?” Bressie asks.

“I’d have to relocate the entire enterprise here from New York.” Niall explains. “I can’t move there. There’s no way they’d let me become a citizen after I was held by terrorists for four months. Relocating people, finding space, getting everything up and running- It would take months, and another half-a-million quid at least. Banks aren’t exactly giving out three-million quid loans. Where’s Eoghan when I fucking need him?”

“Eoghan?” Bressie asks incredulously.

“He pulled strings and got me my house back, and got me in the trial for Bobby.” Niall explains. “If he were still here, instead of off who knows where, maybe he could use his influence to get me a loan.”

“Jaysus, are ye planning on paying a few hundred thousand a month?” Bressie scoffs. “Not to mention, the interest on the damn loan would be insane.”

“Well, it’s either that, rob a few dozen banks, or just not do a damn thing about it.” Niall argues. “So I guess I’m stuck with the third option.”

“I could loan you the money.” Bressie offers.

“Bress, I used to pay your bills for you. I know how much you’re worth, and it’s not enough for that.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“I could take out a second mortgage on the studio.” Bressie huffs.

“Absolutely not.” Niall says with a shake of his head. “That’s stupid as fuck.”

“Niall-” Bressie sighs.

“So they sell LiveWell’s resources off, piecemeal.” Niall says with a shrug. “It’s alright, Bress. Maybe it’s time.”

“I can’t believe they’d run a twenty-five year old charity, that’s helped millions, into the ground.” Bressie mutters. “I can’t believe they’re trying to sell a bloody charity like it’s real estate or something.”

“To them, it’s a resource.” Niall explains. “It’s a resource that’s underperformed since my father sold it to them, and they want to cut their losses and move on. The price tag is exactly what they paid for it. If they can break even, they’ll consider it not to be a failure.”

“I just hate that you’re going to just sit there and watch it slip through your fingers.” Bressie grumbles, flicking at a paperclip on his desk petulantly.

“Listen, I didn’t come here to talk about this whole mess.” Niall says quietly. “I came to talk to you about the gala. I need a favor.”

“More of a favor than hosting and performing one night, and playing in your little tournament?” Bressie hums, a boyish smirk on his face.

“Rosey had to drop out.” Niall sighs. “His foundation found out he was supposed to host one night, and then they put their foot down and said he couldn’t be out there hosting events for other charities, because it reflected poorly. But he’s still allowed to participate in the tournament on the third night, since the purse goes to the winner’s charity of choice, unless it’s the civilian that wins.”

“Well, the foundation sounds like a bunch of twats.” says a voice behind Niall that it takes him a second to recognize.

“Mister Murs!” Bressie squawks, jumping to his feet. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Someone should have called ahead.” Olly says with a frown.

“No, yeah, of course.” Bressie nods, straightening up and regaining some semblance of professionalism. “Your assistant called. I just wasn’t expecting you specifically. I thought it would be an assistant or a rep from the label.”

“It’s in my contract that I get to keep my master copies, so I don’t like other people handling them when at all possible.” Olly explains before looking over at Niall. “Plus, I was hoping to run into Niall here, and convince him to come work for me.”

“You’ve found a producer.” Niall hums, spinning his chair to face Olly.

“Not like you.” Olly sighs. “He’s getting the job done, but it’s going to take a lot longer, because it takes him longer to find the right sound. You just got it so easily. That’s why I hadn’t even bothered to pick up the masters until now, because the copies you made were perfect and there was nothing to tweak. But now my label is pressuring me to let him have a go at them, and I refuse, so I’m taking the masters to hide away from them before they send someone to collect them instead.”

“Glad I got out of this business when I did.” Niall says with a shrug. “Bunch of nasty wankers at the top.”

“So there’s no convincing you to come work for me?” Olly pouts.

“Sorry.” Niall says sheepishly. “Like- I like music, but it was never what I really wanted to do with my life. I don’t think I’d be able to bring the kind of passion to your project that it deserves.”

“The original offer would still be on the table.” Olly tells him. “Signing bonus and all.”

And that makes Niall hesitate, because that kind of money would go a long way towards helping him buy back LiveWell. If he could get them to delay the sale by just a few months, he’d have enough to do it on his own. The problem is that he really just doesn’t want the job. He doesn’t want to work in music again, because he’s afraid he’ll get stuck in it and never get back out. It’s too gross, too filled with liars and schemers and manipulators to be a healthy place for him.

And if Niall has learned anything in the last few months, it’s how to choose to be healthier.

“I can’t.” Niall says eventually, shaking his head. “But, I have an idea, if you’ve got a night free.”

 

“Olly Murs?” James asks, his face dumbstruck. “As in the Olly Murs?”

“I agreed to do a favor for him if he does this for us.” Niall explains. “If he hosts and performs on the second night, waiving his fee, I agreed to give three of his tracks a look over and fix whatever his producer has mucked up with them. He said yes.”

“Is this real?” James asks. “Harry, pinch me. I think I’m- Ow! Don’t really pinch me! What is wrong with you?”

“You asked for it.” Harry smirks, releasing James’ cheek and leaning back in his chair. “So, I guess we should move me to the second night, then.”

“No.” Niall says firmly. “You’re still getting the third night.”

“Why would you want me hosting the biggest night?” Harry asks incredulously. “You don’t hit your high note on the middle night. You want to go out with a bang.”

“You’re doing the third night, Harry.” Niall says flatly. “It’s not up for debate.”

“Who made you my boss?” Harry scoffs.

“I know what I’m doing better than either of you.” Niall says, letting Conan pull him out of his chair. “James, you’ve devoted three years to this business. I’ve been in it since I could walk. I know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t argue.” James huffs.

“Good. Harry needs to be the one to do the third night. You want to use that night as an opportunity to put a face with this charity, and you need the first two for people to see that this is serious.” Niall explains. “Plopping him in the middle of it is going to make it seem like you’re hiding him. Bressie is the perfect first night host, because he’ll create buzz and draw in the Irish community, who love to drink, which will get them to cough up more cash. Olly hosting the second night will show people just how serious this is. Then you close out with Harry, who, if there is a god, will win the tournament and boost your press even further.”

“Why don’t I get a say in this?” Harry grumbles.

“Because you’ve been trying to weasel out of this out of fear for weeks.” Niall tells him. “And I get it. I do. But you’re going to be bloody amazing, and I’m tired of hearing you try to put yourself down. So just nut up, and accept the fact that you’re going to bring down the house once you stop getting in your own way!”

“Well, you’re certainly opinionated.” says a voice behind Niall.

“I know more about this than you, too.” Niall says fiercely, turning to catch Simon’s eye. “You’re a shark. You’re the big gun that the big boys bring in when they’re desperate. I’m the one who knows how a startup goes from rags to riches. My da taught me everything there is to know about making a fledgling organization into a global enterprise. I think I know how to run a gala.”

“I’m not disagreeing.” Simon says, shaking his head. “You certainly do know what you’re talking about, Niall. I’m just questioning whether your head is making this decision.”

“I never use anything else.” Niall growls out, stalking past Simon.

He’s got a meeting to get to, and he can’t be late for it. The bus ride back into London is going to be a bitch if he’s this irritable, though.

“Niall, wait-” Harry calls after him, racing down the hall.

“I have somewhere to be, Harry.” Niall sighs, continuing walking once Harry catches up with him. “I have a meeting, and I can’t miss the bus back into London. You’re going to have to walk and talk if you’ve got something to say.”

“Did you mean everything you said in there?” Harry asks, keeping step with Niall. Not that it’s hard, seeing as he actually has two legs. Two long, perfect legs that Niall should have taken the opportunity to cover in kisses and bites when he had the chance.

“Every word.” Niall nods, opening up the door and focusing on the path he has to walk, both figuratively and literally, as a way to push the thoughts of Harry to the back of his mind. “Believe it or not, I’m not a very nice person. I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to build you up if I didn’t believe in you.”

“But when did you even start believing in me?” Harry questions.

“From the beginning.” Niall grunts out. “Ever since the first day we met. You annoyed the piss out of me, but you cared. You had a good heart, and you just wanted to do everything you could to make the world a better place. As long as I can still see that in your eyes, I’m going to place my bets on you. Do you think I would have wasted the last five months doing this job to teach someone I didn’t believe in? I would have told you to find a new job if I didn’t know that you could actually do this, Harry.”

“I don’t think I’m ready.” Harry whispers, catching Niall by the elbow and making him stop. “Not to do all this. You’ve only been teaching me for five months. I don’t think I’m going to be ready to be you when this is over.”

“You don’t have to be.” Niall says, shaking his head as he turns towards Harry. “You need to be you. You just need to care enough to do what you need to do, and you’ll find a way. Besides, after this, donations will come easier, and you won’t have to worry about raising such a large amount in such a small time anymore. There won’t be as much pressure, because the facility will be completely out of the way. Everything you raise will go straight into the coffers for whatever you need.”

“But, what if it’s not enough?” Harry asks weakly.

“What is going on with you lately?” Niall asks back. “I’ve never seen you like this. You used to be so fucking confident. Where did that go?”

“You were my safety net.” Harry mumbles. “If I messed up, you could make it better, but, if this works, you’re going to be gone by the end of the weekend. You won’t be there to catch me if I fall.”

“Harry, at one party, despite being pissed off and emotional and a complete novice, you managed to get two-hundred-thousand pounds.” Niall says gently, taking Harry’s hand in his own. He files away for later the fact that, again, Harry isn’t wearing the ring. “That’s enough for twenty dogs to be trained or enough for a year’s salary for ten employees. You did that in one night, by yourself, with no help from me. You just need to believe in yourself. I know that you know, deep down, you’ve got this. You just have to remember that.”

“It’s going to be different without you.” Harry says quietly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Niall sighs. “Besides, you’ll feel better without my angry arse barking orders at you all the time.”

“No, I won’t.” Harry says firmly, the most confidence about something that Niall has heard in his voice in weeks now. “You should stay on.”

“That wasn’t the deal, Harry.” Niall says, taking his hand back and resuming his walk towards the bus station. “I have to go. I’m fucked if I miss my bus.”

“I can drive you.” Harry offers, catching up with Niall.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Niall admits, his heart racing as he sees the bus pull up to the empty stop. It won’t wait for long if nobody is there. “The bus is fine.”

Of course, as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Conan’s lead jerks Niall to a stop, and he looks over to see the lab squatting on the lawn.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Niall hisses down at him. Conan just looks up at him with those big, green eyes, and Niall doesn’t have it in him to be angry. The bus pulls away before Conan even finishes, and Niall just whimpers out a broken, “Fuck!”

“So- You want that ride now?” Harry asks hesitantly.

“Where are you parked?” Niall sighs.

 

“How did your meeting go?” Ashton asks, stepping up next to Niall. “It was an investment group, yeah?”

“Yeah, it was.” Niall nods. “And it went for shite.”

“What, almost a million quid isn’t enough for them?” Ashton scoffs. “I’ve got investments, and I’m only worth a little over a third of that. Forty-thousand liquid, and two-hundred-sixty-thousand invested.”

“Jaysus.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “How much did I fucking pay you?”

“Only half of that at most, babe.” Ashton giggles, pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek. “I’m joking. It was about seventeen thousand, actually, with what you gave me the day Harry walked in on us. I have to say, I’m a bit put out that you don’t remember every magical night we spent together.”

“I do.” Niall snorts. “I was making a joke, you knob.”

“Niall Horan making a joke?” Ashton gasps in mock-surprise. “Heavens, this needs to be recorded for posterity.”

“If you’re worth all that, why did you wait to leave?” Niall asks.

“Well, sixty of that is from the past few months.” Ashton explains. “And the rest is all tied up. Cashing out my stocks would be easy, but my bonds aren’t due in until July, and I don’t want to pay the fees to cash out too early. The interest rates I have on them are phenomenal. Seven-and-a-half percent. My accountant might have been a client.”

“Wow, you’re going to make a nice little mint.” Niall chuckles.

“I like ‘em rich.” Luke hums, slipping into Ashton’s side out of nowhere. “That way, when they fuck up, they get me jewelry.”

“Ashton must have done a lot of fucking up, then.” Niall grins, giving Luke a once over. Luke’s dress tonight is more appropriate than the one he’d worn to Christmas, a nice little black number falling to mid-thigh this time. However, to accessorize, he’s got a diamond bracelet on both wrists, and a gorgeous ruby pendant hanging on his chest. “You look amazing.”

“Should have fucked me on Christmas when you had your chance.” Luke smirks, his clean-shaven face looking younger than Niall has ever seen him. Then again, that might just be the lack of stress in his eyes. “I’m taken now.”

“It’s a shame that arse is off the market.” Niall laughs. “If you’d asked a few more times-”

“You want to stop before you finish that thought.” Ashton says flatly, curling his arm around Luke’s waist even tighter. “Where’s your man?”

“Bressie? Backstage with the lads.” Niall tells him. “They’re getting ready for their show. I’ve actually got to go introduce James with Harry in a minute, and then they’ll come on straight after.”

“I was talking about Harry.” Ashton says with a look.

“Watch yourself.” Niall says, swirling his glass of champagne for something to look at. “Don’t go getting a big head and thinking you can dole out relationship advice just because you finally pulled your head out of your arse a week ago.”

“Niall-” Ashton sighs.

“Not everyone gets their happy ending, Ash.” Niall whispers. “Just be happy with yours, alright? Don’t go sticking your nose into this. I have two days left, and then it’s done. I’ve got to go make sure Harry and Conan are ready now. I’ll see you two in a bit.”

“I’ll be there, when this is over and you need someone.” Ashton murmurs, pressing a kiss to Niall’s temple and then patting him on the bum to get him moving.

Niall makes his way through the crowd, saying polite hellos and checking to make sure people are enjoying the games. The craps table is particularly lively, with Louis standing at the center of a group, throwing his hands up in the air and cheering. He looks like he’s about to climb onto the table, making Niall stop in place, but Liam quickly gets ahold of Louis and kisses him as a distraction from whatever asinine thing he was probably about to do.

Niall smiles and shakes his head, heading through the door that leads backstage. Bressie and the lads are off in the greenroom, and Niall heads into the room across the hall from them, where he finds Harry and a frantic looking James.

“Niall!” James gasps out. “Thank heavens you’re here!”

“What happened?” Niall sighs.

“I’ve sweated through my suit!” James squawks. “Goodness! I’m flop-sweating! I’ve never been so nervous! I think I’m going to throw up!”

“Not again!” Harry groans as James runs into the loo attached to the room.

“He’s not taking this well, is he?” Niall asks, leaning back against the door.

“He’s developed stage fright.” Harry mumbles. “He’s never done anything like this before.”

“Well, you have.” Niall points out. “Awards shows and all that. Talk him through it.”

“I don’t know how.” Harry mutters. “I’ve never been too keen on it myself. Always freaks me out when I have to make a speech.”

“I’ve seen your speeches, Harry.” Niall says softly. “You do amazing. You’re charming and cheeky and you always get everyone to laugh at your stupid jokes. Whatever it is that lets you do that, just talk to him about it.”

“Just how much of your search history is dedicated to me?” Harry snorts, looking over and giving Niall a weak smile.

“Just had to look them up to make sure you wouldn’t say something filthy in front of the wrong audience, didn’t I?” Niall says playfully. “You’re not receiving an award for best wanker this time.”

“Hey, it wasn’t ‘best wanker.’” Harry pouts. “I won ‘wanker of the year’.”

“That was well deserved.” Niall smirks.

“I walked right into that.” Harry sighs.

“No, you ran into it.” Niall giggles. “Sprinted, more like.”

“You gonna drink that?” Harry asks, glancing at Niall’s glass of champagne. It’s probably just a change of subject to distract from the blush on his cheeks, but Niall couldn’t miss it if a firework had gone off in the room.

“No.” Niall hums, holding it out. “Not allowed. It’s just to make me look posh. Afraid you don’t need that. You never don’t look posh.”

“You haven’t seen the video I won ‘wanker of the year’ for.” Harry grins. “Looked like a debauched chav in that one. Had on a footy kit with muddy socks and filmed it in a locker room. Rode a suction cup dildo. Nothing posh about it.”

“I’m sure it’s in the criterion collection.” Niall snorts. “Here. What do you need it for?”

“Gonna pour it down James’ throat, slap him in the face, and tell him to get it together.” Harry explains, taking the drink from Niall and heading into the loo. There’s a grunt and squeal from James, and then an immediate yelp afterwards.

“That was unnecessary!” James whines, marching out of the bathroom. He stops in front of the mirror and looks, adding, “You’ve smudged my pancake!”

“Oh, hush.” Harry says gently, turning James around. He grabs some of the powder off the counter and begins brushing it onto James’ face. “Pancake is for filming or for models to hide flaws. This is just foundation, James. It’ll keep you from looking too pale or sweaty, but that’s all it’s for.”

“I think the sweaty ship has sailed.” James pouts.

“It’s a black suit.” Niall tells him. “Keep your arms down and nobody will notice. And buy extra strength antiperspirant for tomorrow, because I have you in blue.”

“So I can look like a damp blueberry?” James asks, voice going pitchy.

“Hey, you’re going to get out there tonight, and you’re going to realize this is nothing, okay?” Harry says, putting down the brush. “Yeah, there’s going to be a lot of people out there, but that’s a good thing. That means there’s plenty more people who get to hear about Carey and why you founded this charity to begin with. You’ve done so much good, James, and you get to do so much more now. So just talk about your family, and why you got into this, just like you told me when we met. It’s just a conversation, but the other person is a crowd. There’s nothing to be nervous about, because you should be proud instead.”

“Thanks.” James says quietly, squeezing Harry’s arm. “I- I feel better. I get to brag about my daughter on a grand scale. That’s all this is.”

“That’s all this is.” Harry echoes. “And you’ve got it. Nobody I know can brag about their kids more than you.”

“The light is flashing.” Niall points out, nodding at the little red bulb in the corner that signals their cue to go. “We’ll see you out there.”

“Make it good.” James hums.

“I always make it good.” Harry smirks, sashaying out of the room.

Niall follows him, Conan at his side, and quietly says, “I told you that you could help him.”

“You got anything you can tell me to calm my nerves then?” Harry asks when they reach the wings off the side of the stage. “Because I don’t have a daughter to brag about.”

“No, you’ve just got Conan.” Niall reminds him. “You raised one hell of a dog, Harry. You should be proud too. You should always be proud. You’re an amazing human being. Definitely my choice for ‘wanker of the year.’”

“Had to ruin it, didn’t you?” Harry snorts.

“I have a reputation to keep.” Niall grins, taking ahold of Conan’s lead and walking out onto the stage to a chorus of cooing. He steps up to the microphone, Harry standing off to his left, and asks, “How are you all doing tonight?”

A cheer goes up through the room, and Niall is pretty sure that the wolf-whistle that happens as he rounds the podium is Louis, but it could honestly be any of the assholes he loves so much. Niall leads Conan to the front of the stage, showing him off like a proud father and drumming up another round of ‘aww’s from the audience.

“I’m here tonight with my friend Harry to introduce you all to a very special bloke, but I’ve got another lad that I’d like you all to meet first.” Niall tells them, walking towards the chair that’s been set up for this portion of his speech. He sits in the chair, and Conan immediately rests his head on Niall’s lap as if he’d been trained to do it. Niall strokes him behind the ear and continues with, “This lad here is Conan, and he changed my life.”

There’s another brief round of noise, and Niall pauses before he says, “Almost two years ago, I lost my foot. I won’t go into specifics, but, needless to say, I didn’t handle it very well. Then, six months later, due to an infection, I lost my leg up past my knee.”

Niall lifts the leg of his trousers, showing off Bobby to the group, despite the way that it makes his stomach knot up, and says, “It took me a long time to be able to cope with that loss. I was angry, and I was lost, and I didn’t know where to turn. Getting around my house became a struggle. Just lifting myself off the couch or getting out of bed became something I had to learn to do all over again. Carrying things around was a hassle I couldn’t be bothered with.

“My therapist tried to get me to sign up for an assistance dog, but I told him to sod off. You see, as hard as daily things could be for me, I was stubborn. I was adamant that I could do everything myself, and that I didn’t need help. Sure, it took me a lot longer to get anything done, and I was always sore, and my mood was sour enough to make a lemon taste sweet, but I thought that I was getting by.

“But I wasn’t. Not really. Every day was a challenge, and simple tasks were taxing. Things that other people could do without thinking became something I had to plot out in advance to make sure I didn’t hurt myself or anyone else. And, more than anything, I was lonely. So my therapist kept pestering me until I gave in, and I don’t think I ever thanked him for pushing me into the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.”

“Damn right it was!” Louis hollers from back by the bar.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Doctor Louis Tomlinson. Consummate professional as always.” Niall snorts, earning a laugh from the audience. “As I was saying, he got me involved with All Dogs go to Heaven. When we arrived, I was a wreck. Everything was becoming real, and I was terrified what this would mean for my life. But there was no reason to worry.

“I was introduced to Conan, and, right from the moment I met him, he changed my life. It was like a spiritual connection. We got on from the start, and I think I fell in love with him before I even heard his name. He was, and still is, perfect. He is my favorite - anything, really.

“After training, when I took him home, we had a rough time getting adjusted at first. I was too caught up in my own head worrying about him to realize that he’d been trained to help me. He loves his job, too. He gets all pouty if I don’t let him help me up, or if I try to drag the laundry basket, or if I get up to go get the door instead of letting him do it. This is what he was born to do, helping people like me.

“But it’s more than just helping me get around and putting things in my trolley at the market or putting my wallet on the counter at a café. Conan helps me get by, day to day. He gives me companionship and love without reservation. He’s helped me more than he, or anyone else, knows. Before he came into my life, I was wandering down a road that I couldn’t see the end of, but now he’s always by my side, and I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Niall taps Conan on the shoulder, his signal that he wants to get up, and lets the lab pull him out of the chair, and continues, “But he’s not the only one that changed my life. It was thanks to people like Harry here that I was able to be brought together with Conan. Harry changed my life too. He raised Conan, and trained him, and made my life better than he can imagine too.”

And, god, Niall’s heart is pounding in his chest as he walks back towards the podium, deftly avoiding Harry’s eyes. It feels like he’s about to pass out saying all this, because it’s way too close to the truth. But the words keep spilling out of him, unplanned and jumbled together because his heart has decided to overtake his brain.

“He’s the one who trained me to work with Conan, and he’s put up with a lot more than he ever should have had to.” Niall explains, looking out at the audience. “But that’s how he is. Harry is strong for the people who aren’t always strong for themselves. He’s selfless, and he’s patient, and he’s kind above anyone that I’ve ever known in my life. And I know I’ve never thanked him properly for that, for putting up with me when he shouldn’t have. But that’s what he does, and that’s what All Dogs go to Heaven is about. It’s about helping people like me, who are too scared or angry or confused or hurt to get by on their own. That’s who he is, and that’s what they do, and there’s not enough thanks in the world for that.”

He puts the microphone back into the stand and steps to the side so that Harry can take his place.

“Um, like Niall said, I helped raise Conan.” Harry says quietly into the microphone. His hands are trembling on the podium, and Niall slips his hand over Harry’s to try to calm him down. Harry’s hand flips over, and he laces their fingers together tightly, taking a deep breath before he adds, “But it wasn’t just me. Everything started because my sister got dumped.”

“Oi!” Gemma’s voice yells from over to the side, where Niall spots her with Ashton and Luke. “I dumped him.”

“My sister is also not a consummate professional.” Harry snorts into the mic, and it’s loud, and kind of ugly, but it makes Niall’s pulse quicken anyways. He hopes Harry can’t feel it in his hand. “So there was a breakup, and I went to live with her for a while, because she suddenly had this puppy she was supposed to raise with him for a charity. Like Niall, I was lost and confused before I met Conan. I was aimless, and not behaving myself very well at all.

“But Conan changed things for me. When Niall met Conan, there was lots of love and kisses given to him, but my first meeting with Conan went a bit differently. You see, I was leaning down to scratch his head, and he bit my finger. He bit it hard enough to hold on when I yanked it back, and I fell backwards onto my bum, and he landed on my chest. And I panicked a bit, because I thought he was going to bite my face or something, but he just lunged forward and started licking my chin. So there were kisses eventually, but I had to almost lose a finger first.

“After that, we became inseparable. I spent literally all my time with Conan, spoiling him rotten and being spoiled by his love in return. Because- Because dogs are better than people. They’re completely genuine. They don’t pity or condescend. They don’t want to fix anyone. They help because they want to help.”

Niall’s breath catches in his throat at Harry’s words, because he knows them. He recognizes them, because they’re his own. It’s something he said to Harry towards when they first met.

“And these dogs, like Conan, want to help.” Harry says softly, patting his hip with his free hand so that Conan trots over to him. “When we started training Conan in the tasks we were supposed to, he was rambunctious and eager. He tried so hard, and that’s how I knew he’d make an amazing assistance dog one day. When James came to collect him, because he always makes sure to collect each dog himself and thank the families who raised them, I realized I wanted to be a part of that. I wanted to help people too, just like Conan.

“He made me want to be a better person. I’d had some trouble in my past- Some of you may know me, and others may not. I had to call in a favor from a family friend to get James to give me a real chance, but he eventually gave me just that. And that chance changed the path I was on. It helped me find my purpose, which is helping people who can’t always help themselves. It’s helping people find a partner to love and cherish, who will love and help them in return.

“So, the praise this evening should go to one man, and one man only. He founded this charity out of the goodness of his heart, and a desire to see people be able thrive, rather than get by. He’s got a heart as big as England, and I’m honored to call him my friend. Everyone, please meet James.”

James walks out after that from the wings, waving to the crowd as he takes the podium.

James takes a deep breath after the applause and cheering have died down, and says, “Wow, this is amazing. Can we please thank Niall and Harry for setting this whole thing up?”

There’s another cheer, and Niall blushes sheepishly alongside Harry.

“This- Is nerve-wracking.” James says into the mic. “Holy cow, I cannot imagine talking in front of this many people all the time. I guess it’s a good thing I never became a comedian or a singer.”

Niall and Harry step off the stage after that, taking it as their cue to leave. Harry drags Niall down the hall, their fingers still linked, but nothing about it feels fond. Especially when Harry pulls him back into the room they’d been in before and slams the door shut after Conan gets inside.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry growls, fuming as he turns to glare at Niall and dropping their grip. “What was all that shite?”

“Wh- What?” Niall asks, taken aback by the pure fury radiating off of Harry.

“That!” Harry snaps. “What was the point of lying out there? What was the point of talking about me like that? Just a fucking transition in topics?”

“No!” Niall rushes out. “That’s not-”

“You had no right!” Harry snarls. “No right to say anything like that about me when you’ve been doing this to me for so long! You don’t get to try to change things now, when I’m finally accepting the fact that we’re never going to see each other again!”

“I just wanted to thank you.” Niall whispers, moving away from Harry and settling on the counter on the opposite side of the room. “I wanted to apologize, and thank you, while I had the chance. Because I’ve never done that. I’ve never properly said how sorry I am for the way I treated you, or thanked you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“So what was with holding my hand?” Harry asks sharply.

“You were shaking.” Niall mumbles. “I was only trying to help.”

“Well- Stop helping, Niall.” Harry mutters, shaking his head. “Just- Just let these last few nights go by, and don’t try to change anything. Because I am fucking breaking inside right now, and- And I can’t bear the thought of you giving me any sliver of hope, because I know, after everything you’ve put me through, that it isn’t real. I need you to just- Just stop. Don’t keep doing this to me. Please.”

“Okay.” Niall nods.

Harry doesn’t say anything in response to Niall’s agreement. He just opens the door back up and goes to rejoin the gala. Niall gives himself ten seconds for Harry to move away from the door before he clutches onto his ring beneath his shirt and lets out the sob caught in his throat. He hopes to god that Luke can do his makeup to cover the puffy eyes he’s going to have once he finishes.


	33. Chapter 33

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks, pushing his way into the room with Niall’s suit bag in one hand and a coffee carrier in the other.

“Nothing.” Niall mumbles.

“Niall.” Louis says in a tone that makes shivers run down Niall’s spine because it’s so parental.

“Nothing is wrong, Louis.” Niall repeats. “I- I got exactly what I wanted. Last night- Harry said he doesn’t want me to talk to him anymore. He wants me to leave him alone.”

“He got mad about the speech.” Louis nods in understanding, passing Niall his coffee.

“It’s what I wanted.” Niall chokes out, repeating the words he’s been telling himself all day and squeezing his eyes shut, because he refuses to cry for a fifth fucking time over this. He fucking refuses. It’s a good thing.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Louis murmurs, sitting next to Niall and wrapping him up in a hug.

“It’s not supposed to hurt.” Niall mumbles, hoping Louis doesn’t call him out on the crack in his voice. His throat is raw, and he’s grateful as hell that he doesn’t have to talk on stage tonight. Tonight he just has to mingle while Harry and Olly take the spotlight. He’ll be able to hide himself in the distractions of the tables.

“Having your heart broken always hurts, Niall.” Louis says gently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It was always the plan.” Niall mutters, pulling away from Louis and focusing on the top of his cup. He grabs at his necklace, and doesn’t even care if Louis sees it. Right now, he needs to ground himself before he breaks down, and it’s the perfect anchor. “I’m not supposed to be with him. I can’t risk hurting him. He’s safer this way.”

“Those are nice, little lies you’re telling yourself.” Louis sighs. “But that’s all they are, Niall. Nice lies.”

“I made my choice, Louis.” Niall says quietly. “Change the subject, or let me go get ready for tonight. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“What happened with the investment group?” Louis asks after a minute.

“They said they would only put up the money I need if I put in one-and-a-half-million.” Niall admits. “Then they’d cover two. They offered me a ten year repayment, with a fixed seven-and-a-half percent interest rate. But that would mean I’d end up paying three-and-a-half-million over the next ten years, which is around thirty-thousand pounds per month that’s not even going to projects or staff, until it’s finally just mine.

“Plus there’s the whole issue of me only having half of what I need. I thought about selling the house, but it’s only worth six-hundred-thousand without some renovations. I might be able to push it to seven, according to the estate agent I had over today, but that would still leave me short, and I don’t have anything else worth that kind of money. And, you know, I’d be homeless.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Louis asks.

“I’m giving up on it.” Niall says quietly. “There’s nowhere left to turn. Nobody wants to invest in a non-profit these days. Nobody knows where the economy is going to be next month, or the one after that, and they all think it’s too risky. I was lucky to even get this offer. Every other group I’ve seen in the last two weeks just flat out refused me. This was my last hope, and it’s done. There’s nothing left I can do.”

“You know a millionaire, Niall.” Louis points out. “One who would loan you the money in a heartbeat if you asked him.”

“I would never take his money.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “And I wouldn’t do that to him. He asked me to stop, to leave him alone, and that’s what I’m going to do. It’s the only good thing I’ve ever been able to do for him.”

 

“Slow down.” Ashton says, taking Niall’s glass out of his hand. It’s an order, not a request.

“Louis said I could drink tonight.” Niall grumbles, trying to grab the pint out of Ashton’s hand. Ashton just lifts it above his head. “This is discrimination! Three drinks! That’s what he said!”

“This is your fourth.” Ashton says flatly.

“Bloody spook, spying on me like that.” Niall huffs, slouching down in his chair. “Why am I always sleeping with spooks? Am I a spook magnet? Does me arse say ‘spooks welcome’?”

“Your ass says ‘Harry’ in bright, neon red.” Ashton sighs, sitting down next to Niall. “Has since I met you. I’m guessing last night was worse than you let on?”

“There you go with those spook skills.” Niall snorts, stabbing at his salad with a fork. “It’s a shame you weren’t in Syria. You’d have found me in no time.”

“Niall-” Ashton says gently, touching the blond’s elbow.

“It’s fine, Ash.” Niall cuts him off. “It’s fine. Everything is going exactly according to plan. Tomorrow night will be the last time I ever have to see him again. Then we’ll both be free. I can go back to being alone, the way I’m supposed to be, and he can go find someone he could actually be happy with.”

“He could be happy with you.” Ashton whispers. “Please, Niall. I’ve realized what a stupid mistake it was to push Luke away for so long. Don’t do this. Don’t let him slip through your fingers. Don’t let the man you’re in love with walk away when you could be together.”

“Ash-” Niall sighs. “Stop. It’s over.”

“You deserve to be happy, Niall.” Ashton says, cupping the blond’s face and turning it so their eyes meet. “Be happy with him.”

“No.” Niall breathes out. “I’m at the finish line, Ash. I don’t want to talk to or about him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t even want to think about Harry bloody Styles, and I can have that now.”

Of course, ‘now’ can’t be literal. No, because of course, as soon as those words are out of Niall’s mouth, Harry bloody Styles himself takes the stage to introduce James with a different former client of the charity before Olly comes on.

“How is everybody doing tonight?” Harry asks cheerfully into the microphone, which is met with a loud cheer.

Niall just mutters “Fan-fucking-tastic,” and reaches over the bar to pour himself a shot, thanking his lucky stars that Ashton just sighs and pours one for himself too.

 

“You have to introduce us!” Luke pleads, clutching at Niall’s shoulders. “I’ll suck your dick! I’ll do anything! Just introduce us to him!”

“Luke.” Ashton sighs wearily.

“He’s on my list!” Luke hisses at him. He’s dressed in a suit tonight, all black and tight and gorgeous. And, if there wasn’t a giant black hole in Niall’s chest, sucking down every feeling he’s having that’s even remotely positive, he might have had more of an interest in the whole ‘dick sucking’ offer. Luke looks really bloody good. “Olly Murs is on my list, which means you don’t get to argue it! If we ever meet Jack Barakat, you can fuck him, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“You want me to introduce you to him so that you can seduce him?” Niall snorts. “You remember that Ashton is my best mate, right?”

“I don’t care.” Luke huffs, stomping his foot. “I want to meet him!”

“Alright.” Niall nods. “Come on, then. No dick sucking necessary.”

“If he touches Luke, I’m never speaking to you again.” Ashton growls lowly in Niall’s ear.

“He’s straight.” Niall snorts, following Luke as the younger lad excitedly flitters across the room. “You haven’t got anything to worry about.”

“Luke has a thing for getting straight boys to fuck him.” Ashton grumbles. “It’s like he considers it a sport, or something. He’s gotten at least nine.”

“Olly Murs isn’t a horny college boy.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “If he wants to get his dick wet, all he has to do is walk into a room and point at any bird he wants. I promise, there’s a ninety percent chance nothing will happen.”

“Jesus Christ.” Ashton mutters. “I cannot believe you are doing this to me.”

“Please.” Niall scoffs. “Luke would never cheat on you, even if Olly begged him. Just let him have his fun pretending. Besides, if worse comes to worst, just have a threesome. Wouldn’t-”

“Be the first.” Ashton finishes for him dryly. “See if you ever get an offer to join us in bed now.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Niall snorts. “I’ve decided to go completely celibate again.”

“That’s stupid.” Ashton says, elbowing him in the side.

“It’s better.” Niall says firmly. “I can’t have a relationship, so it’s better than trying to find someone who wants to get freaky with the amputee every time I get horny. Better to just shove it all down, and take up a hobby to repress the urges until my sex drive dies completely and my dick falls off from disuse. I’m thinking knitting. I could knit Conan a hat. I could knit everyone a hat.”

“You’re an idiot.” Ashton giggles.

“Just for that, I’m knitting your hat last.” Niall says, narrowing his eyes at Ashton as they approach the door to Olly’s green room where Luke looks so excited he might be about to wee. “Luke will get his hat first, and you’ll get yours last.”

“Do I want to know what this conversation is about?” Luke asks.

“Niall has decided to repress his sexual desires through old lady hobbies.” Ashton smirks. “He can’t be bothered to find someone to dick him down anymore, so he’s just going to knit instead.”

In retrospect, opening the door while Ashton was still talking wasn’t Niall’s best idea. But he’s pleasantly buzzed, and he really thought Harry would be with James at the after party. He’s not supposed to be sitting on the couch with Olly, right there to hear that bit of information.

“You should put that into working for me instead.” Olly grins. “I’ll even play wingman for you, so you don’t have to bother finding someone.”

“I’m giving you three tracks. That’s a third of your album, with the other two that I already did.” Niall says, avoiding the look Harry throws at him. “Be satisfied with what you’re getting.”

“I’m never going to stop trying to get you to produce for me.” Olly shrugs. “Here, I’ll even play wingman now. Prove my worth. Harry, you like blokes, right? Wouldn’t you fuck Niall?”

Niall has never wanted to be struck by lightning more than in this moment. The ground could open up and swallow him, and he would thank it as he fell. He would even rather be at his mother’s house than standing here right now.

“Actually, I have places to be going.” Harry hums, putting on a smile that Niall knows is fake. “I need to have a chat with our Niall, here. Share the good news about tonight. Then I have to leave.”

“Show him a good time.” Olly laughs. “I really want him to work on my album.”

“Fuck him yourself if you want him that badly.” Harry chuckles, though it’s as strained as the rapidly slipping smile on his face. “Niall, can I see you in the hall for a minute?”

“Yeah.” Niall agrees through a gulp. “Just- Olly, would you mind meeting these two? They’re good friends of mine, and big fans.”

“Come on in, lads.” Olly muses, pointing at the chairs across from himself. “Grab a beer.”

Harry doesn’t even look at Niall as he passes him on his way out the door, and Niall can tell this is going to be a rough one.

“I didn’t know you were in there.” Niall says quickly once they’ve moved down the hall. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to give you space. They just-”

“We reached five million tonight.” Harry breathes out, turning around to look at Niall. “Actually, we passed it.”

“You did?” Niall questions.

“We did.” Harry repeats, stressing the ‘we’. “We did it, Niall. We brought in the money for the new facility. We don’t even have to make a pound tomorrow, and we’d still come out on top.”

“That’s great.” Niall says with a soft smile, looking down at his feet.

“You did this, Niall.” Harry says quietly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “You’re the only reason this has all been possible. It would have taken years for us to raise all that money if you hadn’t done this.”

“I didn’t do it for the charity, Harry.” Niall admits. “I did it for you. I messed up, and I couldn’t let you pay for that. If it weren’t for me, you could still just be a trainer.”

“Why can’t you just accept it when I say one nice thing about you?” Harry sighs. “You did a good thing, Niall. Why won’t you let yourself take credit for that?”

“Because it doesn’t even come close to tipping the scales back for me.” Niall mutters. “So I helped a charity out of guilt. Does that make up for what I did? Does it make up for the life I took? No. Nothing is ever going to clear my slate, Harry. Nothing. So why bother thinking about it?”

“Because punishing yourself for it isn’t going to change things either.” Harry murmurs, moving in closer to Niall. “Forcing yourself to be unhappy isn’t going to do any good for anyone.”

“It is.” Niall says firmly, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. “No matter what anyone else thinks, I know I’m right.”

“How can someone so smart be so stupid?” Harry mutters, turning and walking away down the hall. “Goodbye, Niall.”

“See you later, Harry.” Niall whispers after him once he’s definitely far enough away not to hear it.

He’s not ready to say goodbye yet. He has one more night, and then he has to, but he can’t right now.

 

“You’re upping the purse?” Niall asks incredulously.

“Well, we went over the five-million mark, so we thought that, with a higher purse, more people would participate.” James explains. “So we raised the purse to double.”

“Jesus.” Niall mutters, shaking his head and pacing with Conan at his side.

All this money. All this fucking money floating around, and Niall can’t do anything about LiveWell. Selling the house would get him close, but he’d need a buyer straight away, which means selling it for six-hundred-thousand, which puts him one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand from his goal.

“We’ve got the money to cover it now, Niall. What are you worried about?” James asks. “It’s two-hundred-thousand. That’s all. Based on the last two nights, we’ll make double that tonight, even if Harry loses.”

Niall can’t. He fucking can’t. It’s too low, even for him. To turn his back on these people who’ve helped him so much, just to do something for himself- It’s fucking horrible. Only the lowest scum would ever do anything like that.

“I quit.” Niall breathes out.

“What?” James asks, looking taken aback.

“I quit.” Niall repeats, looking down at his feet. “My contract with you was up when we hit five-million. I’m done.”

“We still have one more night of the gala, and you’re just going to abandon us?” James asks weakly.

“I’m going to be here.” Niall tells him. “I’ll help out if you need me, but everything should be fine. Harry knows what he’s doing now.”

“If you’re going to be here, then why quit before tonight?” James asks. “We’d keep up our end of the contract payment wise through tonight, and you can quit tomorrow.”

“Because it’s not enough.” Niall says quietly. “I- I’m going to sign up for the tournament.”

“You can’t be serious!” James squawks. “Not only are you quitting, but now you’re hoping to take our money? How can you do this to us? How can you do this to Harry?”

“James, I’m not doing this to be greedy. I need the money for something.” Niall sighs.

“Get out of my sight.” James says harshly.

“I’m sorry about this, James.” Niall says quietly when he reaches the door, not daring to turn back. “If that makes any difference to you, I really am sorry.”

James doesn’t respond, which is all the answer that Niall needs. He passes Harry on his way out, and Conan wants to stop and say hello if his reaction is anything to go by, but Niall keeps walking because Harry refuses to even look at him.

He’s barely halfway into the ballroom when the door to the hallway slams open and Harry roars, “What the fuck, Niall? You quit?”

Niall doesn’t stop walking, even with the sound of Harry’s shoes pounding on the floor behind him.

He just mutters out, “My contract is up.”

“So you were just going to leave without a word?” Harry asks angrily, darting forward to get between Niall and the path to the door. “That’s how you want to leave things?”

“I’m going to be here tonight, Harry.” Niall says, shaking his head. “If you want a goodbye, I’ll give it to you after tonight is done. Right now, I need to get ready.”

“If you’re going to be here tonight, then why is James so angry?” Harry questions.

“Because, I’m going to be here tonight as a player in the tournament.” Niall whispers.

“You fucking arsehole.” Harry breathes out. “Trying to squeeze every pound you can get out of this charity. God- God! I should have fucking known you would do this!”

“Guess you should have.” Niall says, steeling his face so it can’t show the way that it feels like Harry is ripping his heart out when he says that. Even Harry thinks he’s nothing. Even Harry doesn’t think anything more of Niall than pond scum.

“You are un-fucking-believable.” Harry scoffs. “Keep your goodbyes, Niall. Thank God tonight is the last time we’ll ever see each other, because- Because I cannot believe I managed to fall for someone without a heart twice. History just loves to fucking repeat itself.”

He walks past Niall after that, and Niall takes a second to catch the breath that’s been forced out of his lungs. He doesn’t cry, though. He doesn’t cry, because he’s doing what he has to do, and this is what he wanted all along.

He can break tomorrow.


	34. Chapter 34

“You’re an idiot.” Liam sighs, finding Niall at the bar closest to the stage.

“Nice to see you too, Liam. You’re looking very handsome tonight.” Niall says snidely.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell them what the money was for?” Liam asks, taking a seat next to Niall.

“Because they don’t need to know.” Niall mutters into his drink. It’s a Pepsi, because Louis was pissed off when Ashton tattled about Niall’s drink tally last night. The irony of the situation is not lost on him. “What am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hey, I need this money because, even though you’ve helped me a lot, I need to find a way to double what you’ve paid me, which was gouging you anyways, in order to buy back the charity that my father spent his whole life building.’ That wouldn’t be fucking pathetic at all.”

“Niall-” Liam says gently.

“I wanted him to hate me, alright?” Niall snaps. “It wasn’t going to be enough if he just resigned himself to not being with me. I need him to fucking hate me. I need him to never want to see me again, because, if he ever tried to come back into my life, I’m not strong enough to resist it again. I will give in, and I haven’t done all this to keep us apart, only to have it happen anyways. Because I fucking love him, Liam, and I cannot be with him, and this- This was enough. This was enough to get him to truly hate me.”

“And what if it wasn’t?” Liam asks.

“It was.” Niall says with a humorless laugh, clasping the ring hidden under his shirt. “You should have seen the way he looked at me earlier. Like I was something he stepped in and would have to throw away his boot because I was so fucking disgusting. He- He said that he made the same mistake that he’d made before, falling for someone without a heart.”

“Oh, Niall.” Liam sighs.

“It’s a good thing, Liam.” Niall says sharply. “Now- Now I can just live a peaceful, quiet life like my da did. LiveWell will be enough for me. It was for him.”

“You’re not your father, Niall.” Liam says gently. “And you don’t have to live like he did.”

“My da was up for a Nobel Peace Prize three times in the past ten years!” Niall growls. “He helped millions of people! I would be lucky to be a tenth the man he was!”

“And do you think this is what he’d want?” Liam asks back flatly. “You living your life alone out of some obligation you have to him?”

“I think he’d want more for his legacy than having it sold off in pieces.” Niall argues.

“LiveWell isn’t his legacy, Niall!” Liam groans. “You are!”

“Well, he deserves better than that.” Niall mutters. “Better than some fuck up with half a brain and half a leg. He deserves to be remembered for what he did for the world, not have his life’s work divided up by a soft drink corporation because the cause isn’t ‘sexy’ anymore. My da spent three-million quid trying to find me. The least I can do is find a way to repay that and him.”

“You’re an idiot.” Liam repeats his opening line, shaking his head and walking away.

“Why does everyone forget that I’m actually a literal genius?” Niall sighs, looking down at Conan. Conan just looks up at him and huffs. “Well, you can shut it too.”

“Talking to a dog?” Ashton asks, slipping into the seat Liam vacated. “People might think you’re crazy, mate.”

“Think that ship has sailed.” Niall says flatly, looking over at him. “If you’re here to lecture me about Harry, I will break this glass in your face. I swear to god, Ash-”

“Just wanted to talk.” Ashton hums. “You looked like you could use it.”

“I could use whiskey.” Niall huffs. “But you’ll do.”

“Oh, thanks.” Ashton scoffs.

“You know, if I had even a pound to spare right now, and you hadn’t quit, I would drag you into a closet and-” Niall starts.

“No you wouldn’t.” Ashton cuts him off. “Because it’s different now that you’ve realized you’re in love with him.”

“You did it well enough.” Niall mutters.

“But you’re not me.” Ashton says, nudging Niall’s elbow with his own. “And we both know that that’s not how you really wish you could handle things.”

“It was so much easier.” Niall sighs. “And more fun.”

“It was also unhealthy. Avoidance isn’t-” Ashton starts.

“Cool your engines.” Niall cuts him off in return. “I’ve been in therapy a lot longer than you have. I know all about the problems with avoidance. I know I should face my problems head on. But- But sometimes, my problems feel like a fucking mountain, and it’s a lot easier to go around it than over it.”

“Climbing that mountain is the only way to get better.” Ashton murmurs, running the back of his hand over Niall’s knuckles. “And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you. Louis and Liam and Luke and Bressie are here for you.”

“Thanks.” Niall whispers, flipping his palm over and letting Ashton lace their fingers together. “I’m going to need the help. Spelunking with one leg is rough.”

“Well, I’ll always be here to hold your line.” Ashton hums. “Gives me a good angle to look at your arse.”

“Idiot.” Niall snorts.

“Hey, I’ve got a boyfriend, but I’m not dead.” Ashton grins. “I can’t help it if I’m attracted to you when I know what you look like when you cum.”

“Tell me.” Louis smirks, sliding into the stool on Niall’s left. “I always assumed he just scowled extra hard for his orgasm face.”

“No, it’s really hot, actually.” Ashton laughs. “He goes red all over his face and neck and chest, and then-”

“Enough!” Niall squawks. “This is not the conversation for this moment!”

“Tomorrow, then.” Louis shrugs. “Or, you know, two minutes from now when you have to go play your first round.”

“Already?” Niall hisses, looking at his watch. “It’s supposed to be after the show!”

“Didn’t you hear?” Louis asks. “There was some problem with the band. They’re doing the first round of the tournament, then the show, then the next two rounds, and then the celebrity match with whoever wins. Hopefully you.”

“It’s going to be me.” Niall says firmly. There’s no other option. Niall is walking out of here tonight with that money. He needs it. This is his last chance to do right by his father, and he’s not letting it slip away.

If he hadn’t fucked up, hadn’t let himself get pulled in by Eoghan, then he wouldn’t have been taken. If he hadn’t been taken, his father never would have had to sell LiveWell to hire mercenaries who ended up ripping him off in the end for all the good they did. He wouldn’t have put so much stress on his heart, wouldn’t have died. This is the only thing Niall can do to even start to make that right.

Niall will win, and nothing is going to stand in his way. Not James, not All Dogs go to Heaven, and not Harry Styles.

 

“You did it!” Luke giggles, running up to Niall and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“Only made it through one round so far, Luke.” Niall reminds him. “I still have to go through two more in order to get into the final match. In fact, this actually cost me a thousand quid for entry, and it’s the same for the next two rounds. I’m technically losing money right now. Only the winner of the tournament gets it back, because that’s their starting pool for the final game.”

“Oh, stop being such a grump.” Luke hums, wrapping his arms around Niall’s neck. “Just enjoy the moment, yeah? You’re one step closer to that money.”

“Why are you so peppy tonight?” Niall asks, adamantly ignoring it as James comes out on the stage to start introducing Harry. Niall was supposed to do it, but it’s just another thing to add to the list of ways he’s disappointed people.

“Honestly?” Luke questions, waiting until Niall nods to say, “I really am a huge fan of Harry’s, and I never got to see him sing live because the ‘Best Song Ever’ cast only did their concerts here in the UK and Ireland.”

“Hope you’re not expecting anything original out of him.” Niall mutters, pushing his way past Luke and heading back towards his seat at the bar by the stage. “He refused to sing unless he just got to do covers of Elvis songs.”

“I love Elvis.” Luke sighs dreamily. “It’s a shame about the whole ‘knowing you’ thing. Harry used to be on my list, but you made it awkward.”

“Well, Harry’s type is ‘arsehole’, so you’re quickly increasing your chances.” Niall growls out, slipping into his seat and taking the drink Ashton passes him. “Ash, control your date.”

“What did you do?” Ashton groans, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Told me he wants to have a go with Harry.” Niall says flatly into his Pepsi.

“I told you not to tell him about that!” Ashton hisses. “Especially tonight!”

“Thank you guys so much for privately discussing your desire to have sex with the man I’m in love with. That’s phenomenal. Really.” Niall scoffs. “That makes it so much better.”

“Hey, it’s just him.” Ashton huffs. “I wouldn’t have sex with Harry if it would save his life.”

“Yes you would.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Everyone would have sex with Harry. He’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Oh god.” Ashton breathes out, eyes going wide as he looks straight past Niall. “Not right now he isn’t.”

“What the fuck are you-” Niall starts, but Luke just turns Niall around until he’s facing the stage. “Jaysus fuck.”

Harry looks like a fucking mess. His eyes are puffy, rimmed in red visible even through his makeup. His hair is sticking out all over the place, the tracks of his fingers identifiable even from a distance. It doesn’t take knowing him to see the distress on his face, to see through the fake smile he’s got plastered on.

This is really not good.

“Well, we’ve had a bit of trouble backstage, as James said.” Harry says with a wry chuckle. “It appears that my band has abandoned ship, so- I guess I’m doing this acapella.”

“Fucking shit.” Niall mutters, grabbing Ashton and Luke each by the sleeve and slipping out of his chair, heading towards the stage.

“Not many people know this, but I have a very deep love of Elvis Presley’s music.” Harry continues, his voice coming out raw and scratchy. “I’ve chosen to do a tribute to him tonight, because I’m not legally licensed to sing my own songs. Recording contracts and all that. It’s been a long time since I sang for an audience, so, please, bear with me.”

Niall gets on stage in the back with Ashton and Luke, pushing them towards the drum kit and piano respectively. He’s barely got the guitar strap over his shoulder when he stumbles up to the mic beside Harry. Harry doesn’t notice him, though. He’s got his eyes closed, nervous as all hell if the way his hands are clenched and drained of blood are anything to go by.

“Wise-” Harry tries, having his voice crack before he can even get the first word out fully.

Niall starts up the tune on the guitar, playing a flourish to try to cover the sound of Harry’s choked whimper. It comes easily to his fingers, and Ashton and Luke pick up on it immediately. God, Niall is grateful for their musical inclinations. But Harry- Harry just looks over at Niall in shock.

“Wise men say-” Niall sings, looking back at Harry.

“Only fools rush in.” Harry comes in and accompanies him, eyes locked with Niall as they continue. “But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Niall drops off after the first verse, letting Harry take the lead. Niall is just here to play the guitar. The idea of singing in front of an audience scares the daylights out of him, and, if it weren’t for seeing this poor, beautiful man that he loves so much flounder out of fear and anger and sadness, Niall would rather be back in that dungeon than up here on this stage.

Harry’s voice continues to tremble throughout the song, but that’s okay. It just sounds like the vibrato in the original. Harry keeps his eyes locked on Niall, and Niall returns that unwavering stare, because looking out at the audience would kill him right now. It’s only worse by a very narrow margin though, because, like this, Niall is forced to see exactly how Harry is feeling.

He has to see the scratch under Harry’s eye where he must have cut himself with a ring or a nail while scrubbing tears away. He has to see the watery residue clinging to Harry’s eyelashes. He has to see all that pain reflected back at him, and he just prays that Harry can’t see Niall’s too. Because, if Harry can tell that this is killing Niall just as much as it’s killing him, the whole charade is over.

This can’t all be for nothing.

Niall knows Harry’s set by heart, because he would sit in the wings or in the hallway with the door cracked open and listen to it. He knows every note and line of these songs, knows what Harry was thinking when he picked each of them, and it helps him transition straight into ‘The Wonder of You’.

It’s supposed to have horns, but Niall only has two people to throw into playing instruments in this impromptu gambit. He’s lucky that Ashton has it easy and Luke knows Elvis’ songs enough to even do this. Besides, Harry carries it wonderfully without the brass.

It’s not until the third song, ‘Good Luck Charm’ that Harry finally breaks the connection of their eyes, getting into the swing of things and singing to the audience fully. And, by the time song four starts, Harry has got the charm and swagger going, and Niall is finding it easier to watch unabashedly while he sings ‘Stuck on You’.

Harry’s stupid sense of humor really comes through on the final song, though. Because he’s Harry, and he thinks ending his show on ‘Hound Dog’ to support an assistance dog charity is the perfect choice. The thing is, it really kind of is.

Harry’s completely lost himself in the music, shimmying and swaying to the tune. He’s got the entire room as entranced as he has Niall. People are singing along, clapping to the beat Luke leads them in, since he hasn’t got any piano to play in this one. And it’s so perfect, so utterly magnificent that Niall knows Harry’s stumble at the beginning is long forgotten by everyone.

Harry is beaming by the time the song ends, awash in a sea of cheers while Niall turns back to Ashton and Luke to let them know that their obligation is over. God, he fucking owes them for this. He has no idea what he’s going to do yet to make this up to them, because he didn’t even ask. He’ll figure something out, though. After tonight, he’ll have all the time in the world.

Ashton and Luke walk off the stage with him, each holding his hand tightly as he shakes just trying to keep himself upright and walk at the same time. The adrenaline has worn off, and now he just can’t believe he did that.

It was insane. There was no fucking plan. Ashton and Luke might not have even known what to do. Niall barely knew the songs himself. He only had them memorized because of all the time he’s spent in the last few months listening to Elvis on repeat. The Eagles don’t quite fit with the way his heart has been breaking in slow motion, but Elvis has captured it perfectly.

A hand on Niall’s bicep nearly sends him crashing to the ground as he jumps away from it. His mind reels at the contact, but his heart just skips a beat like it knows. Like Harry’s touch is so familiar that it can’t be mistaken.

“I’m sorry.” Niall says quickly, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. “I just reacted. You were-”

“Thank you.” Harry says quietly, cutting him off. “All three of you. You- You saved me from making a complete fool out of myself.”

“Took too much convincing to get you to perform to let you flop.” Niall says with a shrug.

“Thank you.” Harry repeats, an edge creeping into his voice. “But this doesn’t change anything, Niall. I’m not forgiving you for pulling this. So you’d better make it through the tournament and be the civilian player, because I want to be the one to send you away emptyhanded.”

He walks away after that, not waiting for a response as he shoves himself into the middle of a group of people trying to get his attention.

“Okay, he’s off my list.” Luke mutters.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I wouldn’t fuck Harry Styles if it would save his life.” Ashton scoffs. “How you ever fell in love with him, I will never know.”

Niall only has eyes for Harry though, barely bothering to pay attention to Luke or Ashton’s words until he sees Harry freeze just a little bit when he gets to the center of a crowd of people waiting for him. His whole body jerking for a moment before he resumes his amicable greetings and thanks.

So Niall ignores them and turns back to the bar, resigning himself to killing Ashton if he tattles for the splash of whiskey going into the blond’s Pepsi.

 

It’s brighter up here than Niall thought it would be. He’d helped decide the lighting pattern himself, but it feels different when a spotlight is focused on you rather than just being something you watch other people stand under. Or- Well- Sit under, in this case.

Niall’s nerves are shot to hell, already frayed from the last two rounds of the tournament. They seemed to go by at a snail’s pace, taking forever to get through the few hands needed to win. Getting up on stage put everyone’s attention in Niall’s direction once, and this time is even worse. Everyone is gathered at the tables, watching to see the main event of the night.

And, well, Harry’s glare from across the table isn’t helping Niall in the slightest.

“You alright, wee one?” Bressie asks from Niall’s right, leaning over to talk to him while James explains the rules of the tournament to the audience.

It’s pretty simple. The four contestants- Bressie, Rosey, Harry and Niall- will play five hands, starting with three thousand quid each. Whoever has the most chips after those five hands is the winner. If necessary, a final round will be played between the top two players if they each have the same amount, but that’s unlikely.

“Lot of attention tonight.” Niall mumbles, chewing at his thumbnail.

“Yeah, you’ve gotten a bit, haven’t you?” Bressie chuckles, reaching under the table to squeeze Niall’s knee. “You’ve done well though, lad. Very well.”

“Can’t remember a single hand I played.” Niall admits with a sigh.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Bressie says quietly. “What you did was brave, Horan. I know you don’t like being the center of attention, so I know it’s been a rough night for you. Whatever happens, I’m proud of you.”

“You keep talking like that, I’m going to slip up and call you ‘dad’, and then you’ll get weirdly turned on and it’ll be a whole mess.” Niall says, giving Bressie his best imitation of a grin. “So stop it.”

“One of these days, I’m going to sit on you.” Bressie grunts out with a roll of his eyes.

“Alright, I can be the ‘daddy’, if that’s what works for you.” Niall smirks. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a bottom, but I can see how you’d want the full gay experience for your first time. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, baby boy.”

“Okay, I still love you, but I’m no longer going to feel badly if I beat you tonight.” Bressie says with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s alright.” Niall hums. “Because I was never going to feel badly when I beat you.”

“You forget, I know your tells.” Bressie grins. “I taught you to play this game, wee one.”

“And I’m not a kid anymore.” Niall returns. “I’ve been beating you and Rosey in poker for years. I have nothing to worry about.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Bressie says quietly, using his eyebrows to indicate towards Harry, who’s finally stopped his glaring to smile and wave at the audience.

“I’m not worried about him, either.” Niall mutters. “He’s too rattled to be any sort of thorn in my side.”

“Except him being rattled is a thorn in your side.” Bressie says gently. “You should have talked to him.”

“I haven’t got anything to say.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“We both know that isn’t true.” Bressie murmurs.

“It is.” Niall says firmly. “Just- Just let it go, Bress. I have.”

“Do you want to come back to mine tonight?” Bressie offers.

“Ash and Luke already went toe to toe with Louis and Liam to take me home with them tonight.” Niall sighs. “I don’t think they’d let me go home with you. Honestly, I’d rather just go back to mine. I’ve got a meeting with my realtor in the morning.”

“I think we all just don’t want you to be alone after this.” Bressie says softly, squeezing Niall’s knee again before withdrawing his hand. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

“I’m never alone.” Niall says with a weak smile. “Got Conan, and he’s all I need. Best guy in my life.”

“I resent that remark.” Bressie snorts. “But I understand. You want me to run interference with those two so you can sneak out afterwards?”

“This is why you’re my favorite.” Niall chuckles. “Thanks, Bress.”

“No problem.” Bressie smirks. “Figure I should do something nice after I win this.”

“Dream on, you giant, bloody oaf.” Niall grins. “I’m taking you down.”

“We’ll see.” Bressie hums, shrugging as he settles back into his seat.

“Niall!” Justin hisses from Niall’s left, pulling his attention.

“What?” Niall hisses back at him.

“Why do I know this bloke?” Justin asks, pointing his thumb at Harry. “I know I’ve seen him somewhere before tonight.”

“I was Niall’s caddie.” Harry says dryly from across the table before Niall can answer.

“Oh!” Justin groans. “That’s right! You were the one trying to eat Niall alive with your eyes.”

“Rosey, shut up.” Niall sighs.

“You play cards as well as you can drive a ball?” Justin asks, ignoring Niall.

“I guess we’ll see.” Harry shrugs. “Because I plan on walking away the winner.”

“Never seen a better card player than Niall here.” Justin hums. “You’re going to have a tough time beating him. He’s gotten more money out of me from poker than he ever has from fancy do ups like this.”

“That’s our Niall.” Harry says flatly, returning to his glaring. “So charitable. He’d do anything to make a pound for a good cause, wouldn’t you, Niall?”

“Do you want to talk, or do you want to play cards?” Niall asks back.

“Don’t think I’d get a word out of you if I did want to talk.” Harry says through clenched teeth. “Definitely not an honest one.”

“You’d know all about honesty, wouldn’t you?” Niall scoffs. “Can never keep anything inside. Just have to walk around with your heart bleeding in your hands, and blame the rest of the world when it gets bruised.”

“Cunt.” Harry grunts out.

“Child.” Niall returns.

“Well, I guess that answers whether or not you fucked the caddie.” Justin sighs.

“Remind me why I didn’t replace you with Olly Murs tonight too?” Niall asks sharply.

“Cool it, wee one.” Bressie says calmly.

“When are we going to finally start playing this bloody game?” Niall grumbles.

“Right now.” James hums cheerily into his microphone, though he seems to be trying to kill Niall with his eyes. Niall can’t decide if he’d like it to work or not. It’ll probably depend on whether he wins or loses.

James slides into the dealer’s seat, and begins shuffling the cards. He’s still clumsy with it, no matter how many times Niall had taught him how to do it. Niall was supposed to be the one doing this, for that exact reason. James is even less comfortable in front of a crowd than Niall is now, and it shows in the way he fumbles a bit with the deck.

But his anger towards Niall comes through loud and clear, because he glances up at Niall once, and steel takes over his eyes. His hands become sure, galvanized by his hate, and he shuffles the cards like a professional.

Bressie is on James’ left, so he throws in the small blind of one-hundred-fifty pounds, leaving Niall to put in the big blind. He’s sure James set it up this way on purpose. It gives him the highest chance of being the loser, because he has to put down three-hundred pounds for both the first and final rounds, even if he wants to fold. He’s stacked the deck against Niall, so to speak.

Niall doesn’t care about odds, though. The only thing he cares about is walking away the winner. Nothing is insurmountable right now, because Niall has something he has to do. He doesn’t have a choice. He has to win this for his father, and nothing will stop him. He hasn’t survived everything up to this point just to fucking fall apart because he fell in love with a boy and it didn’t work.

He’s not letting himself get in his own way tonight.

James deals out the hole cards, practically throwing Niall’s off the table while he manages to flick everyone else’s perfectly in front of them. Niall looks at his cards, a jack and a ten, and wonders how they’ll serve him.

Rosey calls, and Harry does the same. It’s a blessing. Niall half expected Harry to raise it just to drive Niall into the floor. Bressie calls as well, bringing himself up to the minimum bet.

James burns the top card and then deals the flop out, an eight, another eight, and a jack. That makes Niall feel a bit more confident. If nothing else shows up, at least Niall has a pair of face cards.

Bressie calls, and each of them follow in turn. Niall isn’t surprised the others are being careful. It’s the first round for them. Niall has been playing all night, and his nerves about the game itself have subsided. That is, until he looks out of the corner of his eye and sees Bressie checking his cards again. His face is unreadable, but, as soon as Bressie lays them down, he lifts the corners back up, and Niall knows he’s fucked.

Bressie can never resist gloating internally about a good hand, so he checks his cards over and over while he imagines his victory.

James burns another card, then plays the turn. It’s a six, and Niall knows it’s time. There’s a difference between giving up, and making a strategic retreat to conserve resources. Niall needs every pound he has if he wants to win this, and he’s not going to waste any of it.

“I fold.” Niall declares immediately after Bressie calls.

“You- You fold?” James asks into the microphone. “You haven’t folded once tonight.”

“I know when I’m not going to win a hand, and Bressie is telling me that loud and clear.” Niall answers loud enough for the microphone to pick it up. He drops his cards on the table, and slides them over to James.

“Alright.” James shrugs, adding them into the discard pile.

“I’ll fold too.” Justin says next, tossing James his cards. “Niall’s instincts are usually spot on, so I’m going to follow his lead.”

“I call.” Harry says flatly, throwing in his chips while glaring at Niall. “I’m not afraid to take a chance.”

“It’s not a chance when you’re going to crash and burn, no matter what you do.” Niall growls.

“Well, we’ve got a lively bit of competition here tonight, haven’t we?” James laughs, cutting in before Harry can respond with whatever barb was on his tongue. “Simmer down, lads. It’s only a friendly poker game for charity.”

“For three of us.” Harry adds. “One of us is playing for himself.”

“All of us have our own causes.” Bressie says gruffly.

“Let’s finish the hand, shall we?” James asks, his voice strained. “And then we’ll give each player the chance to talk about their causes, because I’m sure everyone is very interested to know where the money will be going, depending on who wins tonight.”

Before anyone can say anything else, James burns another card and throws down the river, putting an end to the conversation quite forcefully with a seven. Niall looks to Harry first, judging his reaction. There’s a smirk on his face as he plays with his chips and stares at the community cards. Bressie, on the other hand, looks completely calm.

Bressie calls, and Harry follows, bringing the pot up to three-thousand quid. Whoever wins will put themselves over five-thousand, while the loser will drop down to under two-thousand. If the loser doesn’t win the next hand, or fold early, they won’t have enough to play the third hand or beyond.

“Alright, lads. It’s time for the showdown.” James hums. “Harry?”

“Two pairs.” Harry grins, laying down a jack and a seven. It’s not a terrible hand, but Niall has no confidence in it.

“Four of a kind.” Bressie smirks, tossing down two eights to match the other two on the table.

Yeah, that’s about what Niall was expecting. Bressie wouldn’t have been so sure about winning before the final card was played if he had been angling for a straight, or merely had a three of a kind, though that still would have taken Harry out. Harry is always too confident out of the gate. He had been in their first game against each other, and he had been during the practice matches that Niall had set up to refresh him on the game, and he is tonight, too.

Always so fucking overeager that he never thinks about the consequences.

“Looks like Bressie has the upper hand this time.” James says, giving Harry a sympathetic pat on the hand as the smile falls off of his face.

“Well, I guess I should stick with the old adage.” Harry says, recovering quickly. “Age before beauty.”

Niall snorts out a laugh at that before he can stop himself, clapping a hand over his mouth as Bressie lets out a squawk of protest and Harry preens at the audience’s laughter. Niall manages to recover before Harry’s eyes catch him, schooling his face into something neutral. He’s always had a good poker face.

Liam, on the other hand, does not. Niall can see him looking smug down at the table he’s at with Louis, Ashton and Luke. He’s grinning like an arse, scratching Conan’s ear like he’s just won a prize. Niall is going to throttle him one of these days.

Ashton looks sympathetic, Louis looks bored, and Conan looks like he wants to come sit on Niall’s feet because Luke is holding him so tightly.

“Alright, since you brought it up, Bressie-” James says lightly, shuffling the cards back into the deck. “Why don’t you start us off and tell us what you’re going to do with the money if you win?”

“Getting some plastic surgery, obviously.” Bressie hums, earning a laugh from the audience. “Since I’m no longer young and beautiful, according to Harry there.”

“I knew you ten years ago.” Niall grins. “You’re more attractive now, Bress. Less eyeliner.”

“Arse.” Bressie scoffs.

“Love you too.” Niall snorts, throwing in the small blind.

“Anyway-” Bressie says with a roll of his eyes. “If I win, I’ll be donating half of the money to Pieta House, an Irish suicide and self-harm crisis center organization. They have ten centers now, across Ireland, to raise awareness about self-harm and suicide prevention.

“Where I’m from, things like that aren’t talked about. Mental health is put on the back burner, because people become uncomfortable when you bring it up. Only in the last ten years or so has the conversation started to become more open and focused, rather than swept under the rug. It’s thanks to organizations like Pieta House that that’s been possible. They refuse to keep taking ‘no’ as an answer, because they’ve become fed up with the way people ignore the importance of mental health for their own comfort.

“The entire mission of Pieta House is to destigmatize mental health problems, and bring these to the forefront. It needs to be talked about. It needs to be discussed in an open and honest way. Pieta House has helped do that. They’ve helped people realize that these are important issues that need to be addressed, and gotten the ball rolling on getting people to speak about it.”

“That sounds like an extremely worthy cause.” James says thoughtfully. Justin put in the big blind while Bressie was speaking, and Harry called by matching it. Bressie throws in his own chips, and Niall brings himself up to the minimum. James deals out the hole cards and asks, “And what will the other half be going towards?”

“Ah, that would be the Cancer Support Sanctuary LARCC.” Bressie says with a soft smile. “It’s a charity that my mam is on the board of, dedicated to giving people who have received cancer diagnoses a place to go to find support and therapy. It’s very near and dear to my heart, and I can’t say enough about how wonderful they’ve been for people who need that kind of support. They’re making a very real difference in people’s lives.”

Niall takes the time before the flop to check his cards. He’s got a pair of sevens. Not a bad start. Niall always like to start with a pair.

James burns his card and lays down the flop, making Niall nearly jump with excitement when he sees another seven get laid down first. It’s followed by a two and a four. Neither of them are any good to Niall, but he’s in a good position with this three of a kind. It’s not the strongest hand in the world, and Niall would prefer it to be face cards, but he can handle this. It very well could take him out of being tied for second with Rosey and put him in the lead if he wins this hand.

Harry doesn’t have the defeated look he normally gets after losing the first hand, and Niall doesn’t know if that’s because he’s becoming more confident, or because he’s gotten better at his poker face. Either way, Niall isn’t worried. Harry will be easy enough to get going. Niall shouldn’t have a problem with getting both Harry and Rosey to follow his lead and reduce their piles of chips. Getting them out of the way leaves Niall to face off against just Bressie, and that’s the ideal situation.

Niall knows Bressie and all his tells. He knows how to win this tournament if it comes down to just the two of them. Bressie is a cautious player. He never raises, only calls. Niall can get him down to the floor once it’s just the two of them. Especially if he wins this hand, because Niall will take the lead, and then it’s just a matter of raising until Bressie folds or can’t play any more chips.

Harry won’t have enough left to play even the third hand once he loses this one, and Niall can take Rosey down to a non-issue with the same strategy he’ll use against Bressie. He just has to be aggressive.

Niall has never had any trouble being aggressive.

Bressie places the bet, and Niall calls, because he doesn’t want to bring attention to himself. He’ll wait until the river for that. Rosey follows their lead, and Harry finishes them off with another match.

James burns another card, and though Niall had hoped for another seven, he’s still confident when a ten gets laid down instead. Bressie looks calm, but he isn’t checking his cards. His hand is okay, but not brilliant. Rosey doesn’t look as bothered as Niall would like, but he always gives a good hand away because he can’t help but smirk. No smirk equals no worries for Niall.

Harry, on the other hand, looks just fine. His poker face is casually excited as he focuses on smiling at the audience and trying to communicate with someone through a series of silly facial expressions that make Niall want to hide under the table rather than melt like his heart is doing in his chest.

Bressie nudges Niall’s foot with his own and gives him a pointed look that Niall knows all too well from working with him for so long. It means to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing. He’s exactly right, too. Niall needs to focus.

So he does. He turns his body just a bit, facing towards Bressie so that the only people he can see are the ones here to support him. Ashton and Luke and Liam and Louis and Bressie, the people in his corner. The ones who’ve kept him from falling on his face when he stumbles. The ones who’ve stuck by his side, for reasons Niall can’t even begin to fathom, after everything he’s put each of them through.

And, when this is all over, they’ll be the ones to hold him together until he can keep himself from falling apart on his own.

Niall could never ask for more than these people have given him, and he can’t express the gratitude he feels.

“Niall?” James asks into the microphone. “Call, raise or fold?”

“Shite, sorry.” Niall mumbles, pulling himself out of his head long enough to match Bressie’s bet when he looks at the queen James has laid down.

It’s only after Rosey calls again that Niall realizes that he’d meant to raise. His fingernails dig into his palms out of annoyance when Harry calls too, leaving them stuck with the minimum pot going into the showdown.

Bressie lays down first, revealing two pairs, fours and twos. Niall has him beat, and shows it with his three sevens. Rosey sighs when he lays down an eight and a nine, just shy of a straight because the queen wasn’t a jack. Then Niall’s stomach drops out of his arse, because Harry smirks when he lays down two tens, meaning he’s won the hand with the other ten on the table.

Harry has officially taken the lead, slipping into first with fifty-four-hundred pounds, and Niall only has enough to make it through the next round if they all do the minimum bets.

He watches as the scoreboard above them rearranges itself, putting Rosey and Niall tied for third with twelve-hundred each, and Bressie in second with forty-two-hundred.

Niall is thoroughly fucked.

“Well, it looks like our very own Harry Styles has taken the lead.” James preens, throwing Niall a smug grin. “How fortuitous.”

Niall doesn’t even bother opening his mouth to snipe, especially once Bressie reaches under the table and grabs his knee again. It’s not worth it, and Niall knows that. He can’t give in to the anger and disappointment running through his veins right now. Self-pity never helped an underdog, and Niall isn’t giving up until he’s out completely. He still has a chance, and he’s not going to lose that now just for the chance to snap at James and Harry.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, mate.” Bressie says with an easy smile. “None of us are out yet, and we Nialls have the luck of the Irish on our side.”

Niall hasn’t spent much time in Ireland, just the first year of his life and a few weeks here and there. His father was full of pride for their homeland, but Niall has never really known it. That said, he’s still an Irishman, and, if there was ever a time in his life for that famous Irish luck to kick in, now is that moment.

“And this Rose hasn’t wilted yet.” Justin grins. “I’ve got thorns, and I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Excellent points, both of you.” James chuckles. “Let’s begin the third hand, and see if a rose or a four leaf clover is strong enough to take the lead, shall we?”

Justin throws in the small blind, and Harry the big, and then they’re off on what might end up being Niall’s last hand of the night after it swings back around to him. Seventeen hands so far- the loss of three-thousand pounds, Niall’s integrity and reputation in Harry and James’ eyes- and it all might end because of a few cards in the second hand and Niall getting overconfident.

“Relax, wee one.” Bressie murmurs, squeezing Niall’s knee again. “I have a feeling this is going to be your hand.”

“Better be, or I’m done for.” Niall mutters.

“Buck up, kid.” Bressie says firmly. “Remember what you’re here for. You don’t get to fall apart until it’s all over. Too much at stake, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Niall agrees with a nod. “Thanks, Bress.”

“Any time.” Bressie says with a gentle smile.

“If you two are done having some father-son bonding moment, would you care to put in your bets?” Harry asks dryly.

Niall barely stops himself from biting something about Harry’s obvious daddy issues, but Bressie’s fingers dig into Niall’s thigh and he gives him a sharp look while mouthing ‘not now’. Besides, the point of this isn’t to hurt Harry anymore. Niall has done that enough to ensure Harry’s not coming back. He doesn’t want to add a single bit more to that.

Niall takes a look at his cards for the first time since James dealt them. He’d been too focused on trying to focus that he hadn’t seen that that luck of the Irish has decided to come through in full force. Niall’s hole cards are a nine and ten of clubs, which, by themselves, would have given Niall little hope.

But Niall doesn’t need hope. Niall has luck. Niall has a straight seven-to-jack-flush of clubs already.

Niall has everything he needs to win this.

“Sorry.” Niall hums. “I assumed that James would ask you about your cause next, and, frankly, I know how you love to stretch stories out. I figured it was safe to zone out for a bit, and I could just check in at the end when you got to the point.”

“Actually, Mister Rose here was explaining about his foundation.” James cuts in before Harry can answer Niall’s remark with one of his own. “Where he’ll be donating the money if everything goes his way.”

“Not that there’s much chance of me even making it through the night, sat between these two.” Justin mutters just loudly enough for the mic to pick up and earn him a laugh.

“Now, now- It’s just friendly competition, right lads?” James asks, looking pointedly between them.

“The friendliest.” Harry says flatly.

“Just banter between mates.” Niall says, equally unenthusiastic in his response.

“Um- Great.” James sighs. “Mister Rose, would you please continue?”

Justin plays his chips before saying, “As I was telling you, The Kate and Justin Rose Foundation is all about helping children in need. We have three pillars of service that we work on. Nutrition, education, and experience. Our foundation works with two other organizations, Blessings in a Backpack and BookTrust, to help fight malnutrition and illiteracy, respectively. Our third pillar, experience, is done completely through our organization, and helps us put on two events a year to give kids new experiences that they might not otherwise be able to have.”

“That’s very admirable, Mister Rose.” James smiles, turning over a ten. “And the foundation is based in Orlando, yes?”

“It is.” Justin nods. “That’s our family’s adopted home. We spend a bit of time back here in the London area every year, and Niall here happened to catch me at a good time to come do this, but we do live in Orlando, so that’s where we’re based.”

Bressie throws in his bet, and the rest of them follow, thankfully never raising. Harry could take both Niall and Justin out by raising, but he seems perfectly content to let them flounder until the last minute. He looks as confident as Niall feels, and that’s more than a bit unnerving. But Niall knows he has this. He’s got clovers, for god’s sake. Fate is on his side.

This whole thing has been the right choice, and Niall knows it now.

James lays down another ten, and Niall almost snorts because his hand gives him two decent plays. He gets lucky one more time, as they all just call the minimum bet, and the round finishes up without Harry taking Justin and Niall down for some extra sadistic kick.

“Alright, gents, lay them down.” James grins.

Bressie goes first, putting down a seven and eight, which gives him two pairs. Justin lays down another two pairs, a seven and a jack, while Niall waits to reveal until after he sees the hand that has Harry so confident he didn’t bother putting a sure end to things.

“Three jacks.” Harry smirks, putting his hole cards on the table to show the jacks of hearts and diamonds to match the club on the table.

“I’ve got a three of a kind too.” Niall admits, placing down the ten. Harry looks like he’s just won the lottery, all kinds of smugness written on his face before Niall adds, “Luckily, I’ve got another use for this ten. I’ll put it towards a straight flush of clubs instead.”

“Well-” James says slowly, watching with dissatisfaction written all over his face as Niall pulls the pot towards himself and begins stacking it neatly. “I guess the clover was strong enough after all. Even a three leaf one. I believe that puts Niall Horan in the lead, now.”

The positions on the scoreboard rearrange themselves again, and neither Harry nor James looks too happy as Niall’s name jumps up above Harry’s with a beautiful forty-eight-hundred taking up residence next to his name, over Harry’s forty-two-hundred and Bressie’s three-thousand. Justin, unfortunately, drops off the board all together after his score drops to zero.

“I’m sorry, Rosey.” Niall says gently, turning to look at him. “Really. You do good work.”

“That’s alright.” Justin says with a shrug. “I’ll just donate the money out of my own pocket, yeah? People are going to get help, and that’s what matters.”

“What a gentleman.” James hums. “Can we get a round of applause for Mister Rose as he takes a seat with his lovely wife, Kate?”

The crowd cheers for Justin as he descends off the stage, joining Kate at their table. He doesn’t look terribly disappointed, and Niall suspects that he probably didn’t come in here with the thought that he’d win. After all, Justin has more money than Niall, Harry and Bressie put together. He can afford to take this hit.

Harry throws in his blind, followed by Bressie, and then James deals out the hole cards. Niall gets a pair of fours. It’s not the strongest hand, more than a bit underwhelming after last time, but at least it’s something. Niall decides it’s enough to put himself in the ring, throwing in his bet to get things rolling, while Harry follows afterwards, looking more than a bit disgruntled. Good. That means his poker face really hasn’t improved, and his confidence is starting to waver.

Once they’re all on the table, James lays down the flop, and Niall almost groans. It turns out to be three aces, all just sitting there waiting to make a full house with any pair, or a four of a kind with the last ace. It’s not ideal, especially when Niall’s pair is fours, and he’s got one less opponent now to split the deck with.

But Niall is still in the lead. He has a good hand to play. He’s not going to get rattled by a few aces. Not when he’s so, so close to being able to beginning to repay all the sacrificing his father did for him. He can’t afford to be aggressive though. Not when there’s one hand left, and he only has a slight lead over Harry. He needs to keep as much in reserve as possible to come out on top.

The turn and river keep Niall as anxious as he was before, a nine and a jack respectively, putting him no close to a sure win. Bressie’s face hasn’t budged an inch, and neither have his cards. He’s not got this in the bag, but Harry is another story. Harry looks relaxed again, and has since the flop went down.

Once the final bet is placed, James says, “Niall, I’m sure the audience is as anxious as we all are to know what you would do with the money, should you win.”

“It’s personal.” Niall grunts out.

“Now, everyone else has spoken about it.” James chides, his tone playful but his eyes meaning business. “Go on and tell us. What will you buy with it?”

“It’s not as interesting as all that.” Niall tries.

“I think we all deserve to know.” Harry says with a smirk. “What would you spend it on, Niall? A car? A house? What will you do with a cheque so large? You have to tell us. I think we’ve earned the right to know.”

“I-” Niall chokes out. “I’m going to use it to help finance the re-purchase of LiveWell from the company that bought it from my father before he died.”

The confession leaves him breathless, reeling because he knows he shouldn’t have said anything. It’s going to ruin his gambit. It’s going to bring down the walls he’s so carefully crafted.

But he can’t lie to Harry anymore.

“I’m going to use the money to buy back the charity my father spent over two decades building from nothing, and run it.” Niall admits. “I’m going to try and do right by him, since I couldn’t while he was alive.”

“Oh-” James breathes out, looking as stunned as Niall has ever seen anyone. “I- That’s a very, very admirable use. I commend you for not wanting to spend it selfishly.”

“Won’t matter one way or another if I don’t win this hand.” Niall mutters out. He keeps his eyes locked on his cards, refusing to look up again and meet Harry’s eyes. He has no need to see whatever emotion is written on Harry’s face. No matter what it is, it’ll break him. “So let’s just play the showdown, yeah?”

“Lads?” James asks, prompting them to all play their hands.

“And Harry wins this hand, with a pair of fives bringing his full house to one rank higher than Niall’s fours.” James says into the microphone, the glee since Harry’s last victory all but gone. “Bressie’s seven and two and six keep him in third with eighteen-hundred, while Niall drops into second with thirty-six-hundred, and Harry takes first with sixty-six-hundred in the penultimate round.”

That’s it. That’s the end. Niall doesn’t have much chance of winning anymore. He’s not completely out, but he’ll have to go all in on this last hand to have a hope of surviving. Just the minimum bets all over again wouldn’t bring him up enough to win over Harry, even if he takes this hand.

Hell- Harry could just drive Niall and Bressie into the floor and take this on the first round of bets.

“Well- Let’s see where the final round of this exciting game will take us, shall we?” James asks, getting a cheer from the audience.

Bressie puts in the small blind, and Niall follows with the big. He gets dealt his hole cards and barely has enough left in him to look and find a pair of jacks. Something tugs at the back of his mind, but he ignores it in favor of brightening up. Maybe there’s a chance left for him after all.

Harry surprises Niall by only putting in the minimum bet, and Niall begins to wonder if Harry even realizes how easily he could win this.

The biggest surprise of all comes when Bressie announces, “I fold.”

Niall’s head snaps up at the information, turning to look at Bressie while he asks, “What? Why?”

“Because I know when it’s time to fold.” Bressie answers with a shrug. “I can’t win this with a two and a three.”

He tosses his cards on the table, and then stands up and walks away before James can dismiss him. He only stops once he reaches the table with all of Niall’s friends, turning back to give him a smile and a thumbs up, mouthing, ‘You have this.’

And Niall might. He might have this. But he just as easily might not. He’s too petrified now that he’s alone to look at Harry and try to read him.

“Well- It looks like things have gotten really exciting.” James says nervously into the microphone, trying like hell to compensate for this series of events. “A good old fashioned standoff right here, between client and trainer.”

“Just- Just play the flop, and let’s see how this turns out, yeah?” Niall requests.

“Of course.” James says, burning his card and laying down the ten and ace of hearts, followed by the eight of clubs.

“I’ll raise to eleven-hundred.” Niall decides, dividing up his remaining chips in his head to decide how many he’ll need for each round to go all in. He played three-hundred in the big blind, leaving him thirty-three-hundred to finish this off with. Now he’s down to twenty-two-hundred, and has enough for two more rounds at this level without being forced out.

“Call.” Harry says quietly.

“Now let’s have the turn.” James says, burning a card before playing the next one. It’s the two of diamonds, again doing nothing to help Niall.

“Call.” Niall says immediately, throwing in his chips.

“Same.” Harry mumbles, and there’s something about his voice that knocks Niall for a loop as it hits him.

He’s seen this hand before. He’s played this hand before. The memory is as clear as day now.

This is the same hand that they finished the night with, the first time they ever played poker.

James seems to have his hand guided by some divine force, hell-bent on fucking with Niall, because he lays down the jack of hearts, and it’s like Niall can feel time stop.

He lays down the jack of hearts, and Niall’s chances go up by two ranks just from that. He has a fighting chance of winning this, based on the cards, but Niall knows it’s all over. He knows that the king and queen of hearts are hiding in Harry’s hand, clenched between his middle and forefinger, and everything makes sense.

He knows what Harry is doing, not taking the chance to end this once and for all with Niall. He knows why Harry didn’t raise to twelve hundred on the turn. He knows why Harry is holding his cards like that. He knows that Harry has come to the same conclusion Niall has, that Niall’s only hope of winning is to go all in.

He knows exactly what’s happening, and he knows what he has to do.

“I fold.” Niall breathes out, dropping his cards face up onto the pot before he can give Harry the chance to do it.

“What?” James and Harry ask in unison, along with at least half of the crowd.

“He has a royal flush, don’t you, Harry?” Niall asks with a gulp, looking up to meet those green eyes staring at him so fucking softly. “We’ve played this hand before, remember?”

“I do.” Harry murmurs, nodding without letting their eye contact drop. “And, yes, I do have a royal flush. King and queen of hearts.”

“I’d rather go out my way than be beaten.” Niall tells them, closing his eyes and pushing himself up from his stool. “Congratulations, lads. You win.”

And then he’s walking off the stage as fast as he can, heading through the crowd, straight for the bar. He needs a drink before he leaves. He can hear a commotion behind him, a mixture of cheers and murmuring and James talking through the microphone, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He’s too busy focusing on the guilt threatening to shake him to pieces, and then the warm feeling of Conan’s head landing in his lap only a moment after he’s found himself a seat.

Niall has failed again. He’s fucked up again. He’s let his father down again. And, now, there’s nothing left for him to do with that knowledge except live with it.

 

“Harry and I both agreed that you should have this.” a quiet, familiar voice says as a piece of paper slides into the space in front of Niall’s drink.

“Don’t.” Niall sighs. “Just- Just don’t, James.”

“Niall, we’ve made more than we ever thought possible, thanks to you.” James mumbles. “You should have this.”

“I can’t take it.” Niall tells him, shaking his head. “That’s not what tonight was about.”

“Can you afford to buy back LiveWell without it?” James asks.

“I might not be able to do it with it.” Niall admits. “I have to sell my house by the end of the month, and have that, just to have enough.”

“Then take it.” James urges. “It’s not like you’re using it for yourself, Niall. It’s a good cause, and, if you’d told me-”

“Then you would have done exactly what you’re doing now.” Niall says flatly, looking over at James. “But I can’t take it, James. I had to do this myself. That’s what tonight was about. I had to find the way to earn the money myself. I had to be the one to do it. It can’t be someone else. It has to be me. Otherwise- Otherwise it’s not the same. I owe him everything, and I couldn’t do this. That’s on me. That’s something I have to accept.”

“Niall-” James tries again, but Niall can’t hear the offer again, or he’ll give in.

“Please, James.” Niall whispers. “Just let it go. I’ll be fine. I promise. I just need you to go, and take that with you. Please.”

“Call me if you change your mind.” James mumbles. “I’ll keep it for you in case you do.”

Niall doesn’t bother telling him that the call won’t come. He’ll figure it out on his own, eventually. Niall’s just glad not to be parting from James on the same terms from earlier tonight.

Now he just needs to finish his drink and get out of here before Harry can find him.

Of course, it’s never that easy.

Just as Niall sets down his empty glass and lets Conan pull him up, there’s a familiar warmth that spreads over his skin at the barest touch of fingers against his shoulder. He knows what it means, and his whole body freezes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asks weakly from behind him.

“Because it wasn’t any of your business.” Niall mutters, doing up the buttons on his jacket for an excuse not to look.

“You just let me stand there and say that to you.” Harry whispers. “You let me think that you-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter!” Niall snaps, turning on Harry. “It doesn’t matter! What you said- It’s the first time you’ve actually seen me for what I am, Harry! It’s finally fucking dawned on you that I’m not who you wanted to pretend I am! Just learn your fucking lesson already! Jaysus!”

“It’s not who you are, though.” Harry argues, furrowing his eyebrows. “You were doing it for LiveWell.”

“Yeah, I was doing it for LiveWell.” Niall grits out. “And, now, I get to watch everything my father built get pieced up and sold off to the highest bidder. I get to watch the organization that my father dedicated his life to ruined because the corporation who bought it doesn’t want it any more. I gave it up willingly. And that’s your fault.”

“I- How is that my fault?” Harry asks incredulously. “I was going to fold!”

“I know!” Niall yells. “And I couldn’t fucking let you do that! I couldn’t let you give away your integrity out of some misguided fucking hope that it might change things! I folded, because I couldn’t let you!”

“I’m not responsible for the choices you make, Niall.” Harry says angrily. “I didn’t make you get up on that stage, and I didn’t make you fold. You made your decisions.”

“You’re right.” Niall nods. “And here’s the final decision I’m ever going to make that you have to concern yourself with. Don’t speak to me ever again. Conan and I are no longer any part of your life. If I ever see you again, you’ll regret it.”

It’s low. It’s the cruelest thing Niall can imagine, but Harry’s hatred of him has waned, and Niall needs it to come back in full force. Conan is the only card Niall has left to play, and he’s playing it. At least one thing about tonight can go right.

“Guess I was wrong about being wrong.” Harry breathes out, turning and dropping into a bar stool while grabbing a bottle of tequila from behind the counter.

Niall feels like he’s about to fall to pieces, but he has to get out of here first. He can fall apart in the cab. Right now, he just needs to get as far away as he can. He has to leave before Ashton and Luke or Liam and Louis can find him, and drag him home with them. He has to be alone, because he needs to break before he can put himself back together, and they won’t let him break. They’ll hold him together, and that’s not what he needs.

He only gets a few steps before a hand is wrapping around his arm and tugging him around.

“There you are.” Ashton breathes out a sigh of relief. “Bressie kept telling us you were somewhere, and then you turned out not to be there. We were worried.”

“I need to get out of here.” Niall chokes out. “Now. Let me go, Ash.”

“Just give me a minute.” Ashton says, looking around. “Just need to find Luke, and we can go.”

“No, I want to go home alone.” Niall tells him.

“I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Ashton sighs. “I heard the end of what you said to Harry.”

“I’m not going to fucking kill myself!” Niall growls. “I just don’t need to be fucking coddled! Let go of me!”

Niall’s words are echoed only a second later, loudly from behind him, and it makes his heart stop in his chest. That voice, that combination of pain and fear and anger, is all too familiar. It’s the same way he sounded when Niall shoved him.

“Harry-” Niall breathes out, turning around and yanking his arm out of Ashton’s grip.

It doesn’t take long to find the source of that sound in Harry’s voice.

It also doesn’t take long for Niall to begin moving towards the giant of a bloke with the cocky smirk on his face, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, saying, “Cool it, pretty boy. We all know who you are and what you used to do. I just want to know if you really suck dick with that much enthusiasm, or if it was an act.”

“I’m not interested.” Harry says harshly, bristling at the comment.

“Bet I can fuck you better than any of those lads in your videos did.” the guy sneers. “Come on. I’ll even pay you. You’re used to that.”

“He said he’s not interested, Gogmagog.” Niall snarls, wedging himself between Harry and the other bloke. “Don’t make us get security involved. Just take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Beat it, loser.” the guy grunts out. “I’m not interested in you. I want the pretty porn star.”

“Get lost!” Niall snaps, pushing his hands against the guy’s shoulders and shoving him back a bit.

Unfortunately, a bit is all he manages. He hadn’t taken this bloke’s humongous stature into account before he decided to take it to a physical level. That ends up being a mistake.

As large men are wont to do, he responds with force, kicking it up a notch from Niall’s weak shove. His fist swings around and connects directly with Niall’s nose, sending him sprawling to the floor while a bell rings inside his head. He’s out as soon as his head slams into the parquet floor.

 

_“Your little group seems to think quite highly of you.” the man says, leaning back in his chair. He’s got a scar streaked down the left side of his face, straight through his eye. He looks every bit a bond villain, and Niall supposes that’s appropriate._

_“I wouldn’t know.” Niall says with as much of a shrug as he can manage._

_His arms are wrapped around the back of a chair, cuffed together at the wrist and then chained to the floor, along with his feet. He’s stark naked, ripped out of his clothes by the men who dragged him in here kicking and screaming, and the position affords him no modesty. But covering himself is the least of Niall’s worries._

_No, it doesn’t even begin to compare to the fear lacing through his chest at the sight of the blood spattered blade of the knife that the man with the scar is twirling absentmindedly between his fingers._

_“Our conversations mostly revolve around footy or pop music.” Niall adds. “Or how we’re going to kill you at the first chance we get.”_

_The knife flashes in a streak of light, reflecting the glow of the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, and then a splash of blood spurts out of Niall’s shoulder. It hurts worse than anything Niall has ever felt, that is, until the man with the scar reaches forward and pulls it back out, tossing it onto the ground behind himself. Niall nearly bites through his tongue to keep himself from letting out the scream trapped in his throat._

_“You will not speak unless it is to answer a question.” the scarred man says harshly. “And you will not hold back your screams again, or I will make things hurt much worse.”_

_“Fuck you!” Niall spits out, clenching his jaw and glaring defiantly at the man in front of him._

_“This is not a movie, Mister Horan.” the man says calmly, standing up from his chair and gripping Niall’s face forcefully. “The plucky, spirited leader will not make it through this. None of you will make it through this. The more you anger me, the more I will draw out your suffering. You have the choice of a long, painful death, or a quick one. That is all. Make your decision wisely.”_

_Niall doesn’t even hesitate before he repeats his previous statement of, “Fuck you.”_

_“I was so hoping you would choose this path.” the man with the scar smirks, grabbing a new instrument off of the table. It looks like a whip, only it’s made of several shorter pieces of rope, and it’s knotted at the tips. Niall believes it’s called a cat o’ nine tails. Only, this one has sharp spikes protruding from each of the ropes. “I want to see just how long your plucky spirit can last. I want to see what inspires such confidence in all of your cell mates. That’s why I’ve saved meeting you for last. I want to take my time with you.”_

_He releases Niall’s jaw to walk across the small room, pulling a blanket off of what he reveals to be a mirror._

_“Did you know that more people will break from seeing themselves tortured than the torture itself?” the scarred man asks lightly, walking back behind Niall. He’s barely been back there a second before rough fingers are gripping Niall’s hair and lifting his head back to force him to watch._

_Niall understands the truth in the words the man with the scar spoke as soon as the whip is lifted. It’s like time slows down as he watches it descend towards himself. It gives time for the anticipation to build before the first bites of the rope tear into his back. Fire spreads out over his skin at the contact, but it’s not half as bad yet as the terror that’s pumping faster and harder through his system than ever before._

_“So, how do you think it will feel to watch yourself die?” the man with the scar asks, bringing down the whip again, and finally pulling that scream from Niall’s lungs._


	35. Chapter 35

“Please come back.” Harry whimpers, clutching Niall tightly from behind. “Please, please, please.”

“Let go!” Niall gasps out, wrenching at Harry’s arms to break his grip. He moves as quickly as he can before Harry’s arms can wrap back around him, wedging himself into the opposite corner of whatever tiny room they’re in. It’s made even smaller by Harry’s legs stretching out across the space and Conan shoving himself up against Niall as soon as he’s stopped moving. “Don’t touch me!”

“Are you back?” Harry asks weakly, pulling in on himself to make himself small.

“I’m back.” Niall confirms, burying his face in Conan’s neck and taking a deep breath as his pulse begins to slow back down. His fingers lace through the fur on Conan’s back, and Niall is extremely grateful that he bathed Conan two days ago, because the smell of him would be a lot worse otherwise. “What happened?”

“Um- Do you remember the guy hitting you?” Harry asks.

“Yes.” Niall sighs.

“Well, when he hit you, you went into an episode.” Harry says quietly. “It was bad. Worse than anything I’ve ever seen from you. It was like when Eoghan showed up, but you weren’t in there anymore. It was just- rage. Rage and fear. You were clawing and biting like an animal. You grabbed at his leg and tried to bite him, and he kicked you away. Then he noticed that Bobby was on the ground, and he tried to back off, but you tried to get at him again, and he hit you again.

“That’s about the time that everyone got there. Ashton got in his face to get him to stop, and Liam dragged Ashton away before it got too far. Bressie picked you up off the ground, and threw you over his shoulder, and I grabbed Bobby and Conan and started to follow him. The last I saw as we were leaving was him say something that made Luke and Louis tackle him to the ground and start throwing punches.”

“Jaysus fucking Christ.” Niall groans, rubbing at his eyes. “Did I hit Bressie?”

“No.” Harry says quickly. “You tried, but he put you over both shoulders, holding your leg with one arm and your wrists in his other hand. It was actually really impressive. Then he had me show him the closest closet, and dumped you in here.”

“Then why are you two in here?” Niall asks quietly.

“Conan refused to let himself be dragged out once Bressie put you in here, and I came in because I knew you wouldn’t forgive yourself if anything happened to Conan.” Harry answers. “So I stayed here and held you until you came back.”

“You could have just picked Conan up and taken him out.” Niall points out. “He wouldn’t have fought you.”

“He did.” Harry admits. “It’s the only time he’s ever tried to bite me since he was a puppy. It took everything I had to get him not to attack the guy who hit you. The only reason he stopped trying was because Bressie was walking away with you.”

“Too damn loyal for your own good.” Niall murmurs, pressing a kiss to Conan’s neck where his face is still buried. “You don’t need to stay anymore, Harry. I’ll just put Bobby on and go try to apologize.”

“Actually, now that you’re back, I need to get you out of here.” Harry says quietly. “The cops are here, and Bressie is trying to smooth things over, but he said I should take you home so that everything can calm down before you talk to the police. They might stop a cab, but they won’t stop my car.”

“Shite.” Niall sighs. “Alright.”

“Here’s Bobby.” Harry says, making Niall turn towards him. It’s the first time Niall has looked at him, and his stomach drops. There’s a gash on Harry’s cheek under a large purple bruise covering his right eye.

“I did that, didn’t I?” Niall breathes out.

“What?” Harry asks. He seems to realize where Niall’s eyes are glued, and touches the bruise. He winces and then rushes out, “No! No, this wasn’t you!”

“You’re lying.” Niall mutters. “I’ve been around you most of the night. I’d have noticed if someone else hit you.”

“I did it to myself.” Harry admits, blushing brightly. “When you went down, I tried to crouch next to you, and my elbow caught my knee, and I kind of punched myself right in the face. I promise. It wasn’t you.”

“Harry-” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s true.” Harry says firmly. “I just- When you went down, I panicked, and my body moved faster than my brain, and I clocked myself.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t hurt as hurt as bad as my face does.” Niall mumbles, reaching back and using the wall to steady himself and lift himself up. “Feels like I’m back in Syria, between the cramped space, the flickering lightbulb and my face feeling like someone was trying to crush it in.”

“Sorry.” Harry whispers. “I- I shouldn’t have let you get involved.”

“It’s my own fault for trying to get physical.” Niall mutters, bracing himself against the wall and taking Bobby out of Harry’s hands. He braces the prosthetic between his legs, and then rolls his trouser leg up to slide Bobby on. “Not much good in a fight. Never have been, and I haven’t exactly gotten my black belt since I lost the leg.”

“Who needs jiu-jitsu when you’re a world champion ice dancer?” Harry says with a weak smile.

“Someone who doesn’t want to have their nose broken.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “How bad is it?”

“The bleeding stopped a while ago, but the bruising is pretty bad.” Harry tells him, pushing himself up off of the ground. “You weren’t exactly being cooperative, so I might have made things worse holding my pocket square to your nose to stop the bleeding.”

“A broken nose is a broken nose.” Niall waves him off. “Pretty sure it was that guy’s fist that did it, not your pocket square.”

“It might not be broken.” Harry offers, reaching out his hand to steady Niall when he stands up. “Just, like- bruised?”

“The pain and bleeding begs to differ.” Niall huffs.

“It’s not bent, and you’re not having any trouble breathing.” Harry points out.

“Can we get me out of here before I end up being arrested for assault a third time, and have this debate in the car?” Niall sighs.

“Shite. Yeah, let’s get going.” Harry nods. “We can go out the back way. I’m parked right outside.”

“Perfect.” Niall says, opening the door and looking out to see that the hallway is clear. Once he confirms it is, he heads out and tries not to think about how rough the rest of his night is going to be now that he’s stuck around Harry.

 

“Why did you do it?” Harry asks, breaking the silence as they pull onto Niall’s street.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Niall mumbles, keeping his eyes locked outside the window like he has the whole drive since Harry refused to just let Niall out to find a cab. “Why did I get involved? Why did I try shoving a guy that was nearly Bressie’s size? Why did I play in the tournament? Why did I get up on that stage? What?”

“Why did you let me believe that you were just a selfish, heartless cunt?” Harry specifies.

“Because- Because my life would be a lot easier if I actually was.” Niall admits. “I could stop giving a fuck. I could just- I could just stop caring, and that would feel so much better.”

“Are you really never going to let me see Conan again?” Harry asks in a whisper as they stop in front of Niall’s house.

“No.” Niall tells him. “I don’t know. I can figure something out. Like- Like have Louis drive him to meet you halfway and you can have him for weekends sometimes or something.”

“So that’s it?” Harry asks. “This is just the end?”

“Yes.” Niall nods, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep fighting this fight, Harry. Not for even one more day. I’m just- I’m done. I’m done losing everything over and over. So, yes, this is the end for us.”

He climbs out of the car, barely making it out before Conan is wiggling into the front seat and out of the car as well, not giving Niall a bit of space. Niall isn’t surprised when he’s barely got the door closed and Harry is climbing out on the other side. It doesn’t stop him from walking up the path towards his house, keys in hand.

“I don’t accept that.” Harry says forcefully, rounding his car and following after Niall.

“Wow, that’s totally surprising.” Niall mutters, rolling his eyes and shoving the key into the lock. “Because you’re normally so good about listening to what I say.”

“I remember every word you’ve ever said to me, Niall.” Harry says quietly behind him. “Every one.”

“Then, please, remember these.” Niall requests, standing in his doorway. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m breaking every day. I’m tired of trying to stand up, just to be knocked down every time. I don’t have it left in me to protect myself or anyone else. I’m just- Tired. I’m tired, and I’m ready to stop. I need to stop, so I need you to stop, and you won’t unless this is over. It needs to be over, Harry. For your sake and mine.”

“Have you ever thought about what would happen if you just stopped fighting?” Harry whispers, cupping Niall’s cheek and lifting his face so their eyes are forced to meet.

“Yes.” Niall admits breathlessly. “But I can’t stop as long as you want to be with me. I have to fight for you, because you’re not fighting for your own self-interest. You’ve been fighting for the wrong thing for so long you can’t even see it’s wrong anymore.”

“Niall-” Harry sighs.

“Harry.” Niall cuts him off. “Look at everything I’ve said and done to you. Think about it. You shouldn’t be willing to accept that, but you are when you think there’s some light at the end of the tunnel. That light isn’t there with me. It’s just more tunnel.”

“You’re the one who’s been fighting for something that they can’t see is wrong, Niall.” Harry murmurs, swiping his thumb over Niall’s cheekbones. “You’re so determined to see yourself in the worst light possible, and it breaks my heart. Because you’re so much better than you think you are. You’re strong and you’re brave and you’re so selfless that it winds up hurting you over and over.”

“I’m not any of those things, Harry.” Niall mutters.

“You jumped into a fight with a guy twice your size, just because he was harassing me.” Harry argues.

“And I regret it immensely.” Niall huffs. “My stupid body moved before my brain could catch up.”

“Protecting me on instinct when you want me out of your life isn’t exactly screaming that I’m wrong, Niall.” Harry says with a soft smile. “Now, can we please get you cleaned up? It’s making me sick to see you with blood all over your face and clothes.”

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“You said you’d give me a proper goodbye if I wanted one.” Harry whispers. “I can’t have the last memory I have of you be you covered in blood because of me. Please. At least give me that much, if you’re really saying this is the last time we’ll be together.”

And Niall meant it when he said that he doesn’t have it in him to fight anymore. He’s tired - so fucking tired - and he doesn’t want to keep running and fighting.

So he reaches his hand up to where Harry’s is still attached to his cheek and laces their fingers together.

“I think the first aid kit is still in the kitchen.” Niall mumbles, turning and leading Harry inside. Harry kicks the door closed behind them, and that’s it. They’re past the point of no return.

Whatever happens now is going to happen, because Niall is done fighting.

“Thank you.” Harry whispers, clinging tightly to Niall’s fingers.

“Told you, I don’t have any fight left in me, Harry.” Niall says, shaking his head as they make their way through the kitchen.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Harry hums, pushing Niall into the stool and then walking over to pull a flannel out of a drawer. He wets it in the sink and then steps back in front of Niall, adding, “You’ve been a stubborn fighter since I met you. I doubt that’s all gone.”

“I’m exhausted, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “Every day for over two years has been an uphill battle for me, and I’m done. I’m ready to take off my armor and put down my sword and just stop fighting. I don’t have anything left to fight for now that LiveWell has slipped through my fingers, and I’m not looking for any more causes to pick up. I just want to live the rest of my life with as much peace and quiet as I can manage to find.”

“Hell of a way to start that.” Harry says, wiping at the blood on Niall’s chin first.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Niall shrugs. “Decided to go out with a bang.”

“Stupid boy.” Harry mutters, dabbing gently at his face. “You never take care of yourself.”

“I’m getting better about it.” Niall sighs. “I really don’t pay Louis enough for all the things about me he’s trying to fix.”

“You don’t need fixing.” Harry murmurs.

“You’re kidding, right?” Niall scoffs, wincing as the motion causes his nose to bump into Harry’s hand. “Fuck!”

“Stop moving around.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes, bringing his hand up to hold Niall’s chin in place as he starts in on the blood under the blond’s nose. “And, no, I’m not kidding. You’re not broken, Niall.”

“See- This is why we never could have worked.” Niall says quietly. “You refuse to see me for how I really am.”

“I see you perfectly, Niall.” Harry tells him. “I know who you are. I know the good and bad in you, and the bad isn’t as present as you think it is. I know you aren’t perfect. I know that you’re messed up. But I also know that you’re kind and giving and selfless. I know that you’d do anything for the people lucky enough to be let inside your walls. I know that you’re a better person than you think you are, because you let the evil that was done to you sink in until it’s all you can believe about yourself.”

“I have literally killed someone, Harry.” Niall whispers.

“And you’ve also helped change and save thousands of lives, if not more.” Harry says gently. “I know that what happened there has taken a permanent toll on you, Niall, but it doesn’t define you. Your past doesn’t define you. It just gives you the starting point for who you’re going to be.”

“You read that in a fortune cookie?” Niall snorts. He regrets it immediately, because his nose feels like it’s on fire, but doesn’t let it show on his face, lest Harry scold him again.

“No, the therapist I saw when I left porn told me that.” Harry admits. “And she was right. It’s easy to let yourself stay in the past. It’s what we’re inclined to do. But that doesn’t make it the right thing. We have to choose to have a future if we want one worth having.”

“And what if there’s no future left to choose?” Niall asks. “What if every way you ever saw your life being was taken from you?”

“Then you look again, because there’s always another path, Niall.” Harry says softly, placing the rag on the counter. “You just have to be ready to take it. You have to be brave enough to admit that you want to take it, even if it’s scary and you can’t see where it leads. You just have to take the first step.”

“I’ve only got the one leg. Can’t walk that far.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“Then let someone walk with you, to help you when you can’t.” Harry whispers, placing his hands on Niall’s chest and loosening his tie until it slips off. “Stop always trying to go it alone.”

“Haven’t been able to get away with that in months.” Niall smiles, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Louis, Liam, Bress, Ashton and Luke hardly give me a minute to myself. One of them is always in my business about something. I think they’re afraid of what’ll happen if I’m alone.”

“You’re wrong.” Harry murmurs, undoing the top button on Niall’s shirt. “It’s because they love you, Niall. They want to be in your life. They want to be a part of it, and have you be a part of theirs. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Absolutely.” Niall nods. “They’re all insane. There’s not a one of them that wouldn’t be better off without me, than with me.”

“There’s not a one of them that wouldn’t disagree with that statement either.” Harry says, undoing another button, followed by another and another. “And you know that. You have to know it, Niall. They’re devoted to you, and you’ve earned that devotion from each of them. There’s a light in you that shines so bright, but you can’t see it, because you wrap yourself up tightly in your darkness and think it’s the only thing there is.”

“What makes you think it isn’t?” Niall asks.

“This.” Harry breathes out, reaching a hand up from Niall’s shirt to push the cold metal of his ring against his chest.

And- Fuck. Niall forgot he was even wearing it. He forgot why he keeps it concealed around Harry, because it’s so fucking obvious. It’s like a flashing neon sign of how much Niall cares about Harry, and it’s absolutely the wrong time for this to be happening. A few more minutes, and it never would have been a concern again.

“I heard what Ashton said to you.” Harry whispers. “And Gemma told me what you said the night of the gala. I know, Niall.”

“It doesn’t change anything, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “Just because I’m in love with you doesn’t mean I’m good enough to be with you.”

Harry takes a sharp inhale at that, fingers curling into a fist around the ring. Niall’s heart is hammering in his chest, but it just seems to match the staccato rhythm that he can feel pulsing through Harry’s hand. And saying those words out loud to Harry feels like a shot to the stomach and a relief at the same time. Given the look in Harry’s eyes, it’s probably similar on the other side of things.

“That’s not your decision to make.” Harry tells him breathlessly, eyes slipping shut as he leans in and presses their foreheads together.

“It is when I know you’ll make the wrong one.” Niall tells him, cupping Harry’s cheek. “Because I love you too much to let you waste your time loving me when I don’t deserve it. I will always be too much of a mess for you to handle. You’ll destroy yourself trying, and I can’t be responsible for that.”

“I’m not as fragile as you think I am, Niall.” Harry says with a shuddering breath. “I’m not weak.”

“No, you aren’t.” Niall concedes. “But you’re good, Harry. You’re pure and innocent.”

“Do I need to remind you I was a porn star?” Harry scoffs, a smile playing at his lips. “Pure and innocent aren’t words that really describe me.”

“It’s not about that.” Niall says quietly. “It’s about how you haven’t let yourself become hard or cold or cynical. You still see the good in the world. You’re still a believer in happy endings.”

“Because they happen for some people.” Harry huffs, finally opening his eyes back up. “It could happen for us.”

“I don’t think it could.” Niall admits. “And I couldn’t take it if it didn’t. I don’t have it left in me to take a step down that road when it’s just going to end in heartbreak. I’m not strong enough.”

“If I’ve stuck around this long, what makes you think that’s going to change?” Harry asks.

“Because you still don’t really understand what it would mean to be with me.” Niall tells him. “What happened tonight could happen again and again and again. That rage and violence could happen at any time.”

“Niall-” Harry sighs.

“When I thought I did that to you-” Niall cuts him off, thumbing gently at the bruise over Harry’s eye. Harry hisses at the contact, and Niall tries to pull his hand away, but Harry quickly traps it against his cheek with his own. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt. Worse than anything that happened to me in Syria. Because, even though it haunts me, I know that killing that kid was self-defense, and he wasn’t innocent. You are though, and if I ever hurt you like that, it would destroy me. But you don’t protect yourself when I have an episode. You put yourself in danger and hold me.”

“Because you stop fighting so much when I do.” Harry whispers. “You struggle a bit at first, but you start to calm down eventually once I’ve got you in my arms. Tonight, you clung to my hands once I started holding you, and you settled down. You always do when I’ve got you. You fought that guy, and you fought Bressie, but you didn’t fight me, except when I tried to get the blood to stop. You weren’t even there, but you weren’t fighting me.”

“I- I didn’t know that.” Niall mumbles.

“You always protect me, Niall.” Harry murmurs. “Always. Even the way you’ve been hurting me to push me away has been to protect me. And part of me hated that, but I understand it now.”

“Then you understand why it can’t happen.” Niall mutters.

“No, I don’t.” Harry tells him. “Because I don’t need you to protect me. I can protect myself.”

“You literally punched yourself in the face tonight.” Niall snorts.

“Contrary to that admittedly contradictory evidence, I can protect myself, Niall.” Harry repeats. “I just need you to love me.”

“I do.” Niall says softly, curling his hand into the silk of Harry’s shirt. “But that’s not enough. It’s not enough to just love someone. You have to deserve to be with them.”

“I decide who deserves to be with me.” Harry says, his voice somehow gentle and firm at the same time. “And, if you’ll just stop fighting it, the person who I decide deserves to be with me is you.”

“Told you.” Niall breathes out. “I’ve not got any fight left in me.”

“I don’t want you to be with me because you feel beaten into submission.” Harry says, shaking his head.

“That’s not it.” Niall tells him. “I just- I think I’m done running, if you still want to catch me.”

“Always.” Harry whispers, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together again, carefully avoiding letting their noses brush. “Can’t believe it’s taken me over half a year to catch a one-legged man.”

“You get one of those jokes a year.” Niall huffs. “And that was this year’s.”

“Think I’ll manage, somehow.” Harry chuckles. “As long as I get you every year.”

“Stop being a sop.” Niall says, batting at Harry’s chest.

“No.” Harry grins. “You’ve been pushing me away for ages. Now you have to put up with all of my soppiness. It’s your own fault. It could have been doled out over time, but now it’s just been stored up, and I have to let it all out.”

“Well, you can do it in the morning.” Niall sighs. “I meant it when I said I was tired.”

“Let’s finish getting you cleaned up then.” Harry murmurs, releasing his hold on Niall’s necklace. “Get you out of these bloody clothes and into something more comfortable, like me.”

“Your kit doesn’t look any more comfortable than mine.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes.

“Not what I meant, is it?” Harry asks with a cheeky wink.

It takes Niall a moment to figure what Harry means, but then it clicks. Unfortunately, the gasp he lets out is less about the innuendo, and more about Harry pressing the extremely cold, wet flannel to his bare chest.

“Ah! Cunt fuck!” Niall hisses, squirming away from the contact.

“Dirty mouth.” Harry chuckles. “I was more thinking ‘ass fuck’, but if you’re one of those guys who wants to call it-”

“I decided to be celibate, Harry.” Niall cuts him off. “Finish that sentence, and I’m going to stay that way.”

“Mean.” Harry pouts.

“Well, you’re gross.” Niall counters. “A total pervert.”

“Yeah, but like- I’m a pervert in a romantic way.” Harry grins. “I’ll eat your ass every day, because I love you.”

“You’re disturbed.” Niall snorts.

“Spread your cum on my toast instead of butter, because I love you.” Harry smirks.

“Jaysus.” Niall mutters, shaking his head.

“Cover your dick in chocolate sauce and blow you under the table as my desert when we go out to eat, because-” Harry starts.

“Because you love me.” Niall finishes for him. “If I say ‘I love you too’, will you stop?”

“Only if you say it again.” Harry hums.

“I love you too.” Niall murmurs. “I really do. I don’t need any of that weird shite you’re talking about, either.”

“What if I want to do it anyways?” Harry giggles.

“If you ever put my cum on your toast, I will kick you out of my house.” Niall says firmly. “That’s disturbing on a whole new level.”

“So I can blow you, and swallow your cum, but it’s ‘disturbing’ if I use it to flavor my toast?” Harry scoffs. “Bit of a double standard there, Niall.”

“Why are you like this?” Niall sighs.

“My psycho-sexual development was a bit outside the norm, since I was very publicly, and privately, sexualized at a young age, and then started working in porn pretty much as soon as I reached adulthood.” Harry answers with a shrug.

“At least you’re aware of it.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes, taking the rag out of Harry’s hand. “I’ll finish this. If you can grab me a bin bag so that I can toss these clothes in it to take to the dry cleaner’s at some point, then that would be great.”

“But I wanted to do it.” Harry whines.

“You’re taking too long, and this thing is cold.” Niall tells him, scrubbing at the dried blood on his chest. It’s still unpleasant, but he’s not all careful about it like Harry is, so he gets the job done much faster, even with Harry continuing to strip Niall out of his jacket and shirt.

It’s when Harry starts pressing soft kisses to Niall’s neck that his brain sort of short-circuits.

“You cannot stand being ignored, can you?” Niall asks breathlessly.

“Nope.” Harry giggles into Niall’s neck. “But I’ve been suppressing the urges I have around you for a very long time now, and I don’t have to anymore.”

“I thought you’d moved on.” Niall admits. “Until the first night of the gala, you’d barely look at me or talk to me whenever we were together.”

“Because it was taking every bit of my willpower not to keep trying to get you to be with me.” Harry says quietly. “A few weeks back, Gemma told me what you said to her the night we slept together. About how you were just trying to protect me, and I realized that it wasn’t going to do either of us any good. It wasn’t going to work, and it was making things harder on both of us. So, every time we were together, I just spent the entire time pushing down everything I felt.”

“Until what you felt was that I was a heartless prick.” Niall points out. “That wasn’t a subdued reaction at all.”

“I- I think I was just giving us an out.” Harry sighs, pulling back. “You wanted things to be over, and I convinced myself that it was a good enough reason to be done with things.”

“And, yet, here you are.” Niall points out.

“I didn’t say that it worked particularly well, even if I tried to force it to.” Harry says quietly, lacing his fingers into Niall’s hair. “The moment you got up on that stage for me, I knew there was no way that I could have been right in what I said. Even in giving me a reason to hate you, you were only trying to take care of me. You were always trying to take care of me.”

“I just want you to have a happy life.” Niall murmurs.

“Then give me a chance.” Harry pleads. “Don’t give me hope, and then stomp it into dust in the morning again.”

“Can’t really stomp with one foot.” Niall says with a soft smile.

“I’m serious, Niall.” Harry whispers. “If you tell me right now that you don’t really want this, then I’ll walk away. But I can’t take it if you keep this up for tonight, only to end things tomorrow. If you’re going to give me a chance, then give me a real chance.”

“I told you, I’m done running.” Niall murmurs, pulling Harry’s hand away from his hair and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I want this. I just don’t know how to let myself be okay with having this. So- So it’s going to be rough for a while. Just don’t give up on me for not getting it right all the time. It’s going to take time for me to settle into this.”

“As long as you don’t keep trying to pull away because you think it’s what’s best for me.” Harry agrees. “Let me be the one to decide that.”

“It’s never worked when I tried to anyways.” Niall says gently. “So how about we go upstairs and get settled in, and talk about this in the morning? No second thoughts, no backing out, just breakfast and a real conversation about where we are, and how we go forward from here.”

“Trousers first.” Harry grins, reaching down and undoing Niall’s trousers in an instant with only one hand.

“What- How- You-” Niall stammers, trying to figure out how Harry accomplished that. “It’s a double button!”

“Shh.” Harry giggles. “It’s a party trick of mine. Don’t question it. Just roll with it, and take these off so we can put them in the bag.”

“Alright.” Niall snorts, lifting up and letting Harry pull the fabric down his legs.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous.” Harry breathes out, kneeling down in front of Niall and taking off his shoes so he can slip off the trousers afterwards.

“Wait until we get upstairs.” Niall scoffs, threading his fingers in Harry’s hair and pushing his head back when the brunet begins to mouth at his thigh. “This stool is cold on my arse. My bed is much comfier.”

“Niall Horan, are you trying to get me in bed?” Harry asks with a smirk.

“You were literally just like- Ten seconds from sucking my dick.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Stop being cheeky or we’re just going to sleep in that bed. I’m tired, and I don’t have the energy to put up with your shenanigans.”

“Why does it only turn me on more when you say things like ‘shenanigans’?” Harry hums.

“Jaysus.” Niall sighs. “What am I getting myself into?”

“Me, hopefully.” Harry giggles. “Preferably soon.”

“I’m starting to remember why I hated you when we met.” Niall mutters.

“Fine.” Harry groans. “Stop being such a boner-killer. We’ll go upstairs.”

“Conan, get a treat and go to the sitting room.” Niall tells the lab standing guard right next to his stool. Conan huffs, but doesn’t go anywhere. “Don’t give me that. You know the drill. I bought you that nice bed, and you have your movie in the DVD player. Just press play.”

“You taught him to use the DVD player?” Harry asks confusedly.

“It’s one of those really basic, portable ones for kids.” Niall explains. “It has like four buttons, and he learned how to work it pretty quickly. I bought it when I started seeing Ashton more regularly so that Conan had something to do.”

“Jesus Christ.” Harry says, standing up and shaking his head.

“I didn’t want him to get bored.” Niall says with a shrug.

“Can we not talk about you and Ashton tonight?” Harry requests. “Still makes me sick to my stomach when I think about his hands on you.”

“Well, I can understand that.” Niall says quietly, stepping off of his stool and slipping his hand into Harry’s. “I- The reason I started seeing Louis again was because I realized I’m in love with you. I wanted him to make it stop. And, in one of the early sessions about it, he tried to put me off of you by making me watch one of your scenes, and-”

“Oh god.” Harry breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I never wanted you to watch any of that.”

“I didn’t.” Niall assures him. “Didn’t get through you being invited inside with that pizza before-”

“Oh god!” Harry squeaks, cutting Niall off again. “He picked the orgy?”

“I honestly have no idea.” Niall snorts. “I put a hole through his flat screen as soon as I realized what it was. You’d know your scenes better than I would. Can’t stand seeing you being touched by someone else, or touching yourself for someone else.”

“How many scenes did he show you?” Harry sighs.

“He’s had four new tellies in the last few months.” Niall admits. “He gave up on that route eventually, because I refused to pay for them after the second time. I knew you wouldn’t want me to watch them, and I couldn’t handle it. Seeing you like that- The thought of it made my stomach heave.”

“Well, how about we go make our own memories, then?” Harry asks. “Ones that mean something.”

“Conan- Treat. Sitting room. Lilo. Now.” Niall orders, using the tone he only gets when Conan is being particularly huffy about something. Conan opens up the cupboard next to the door, grabbing one of the big bones that Niall has for nights like this, and trundles off to the sitting room after throwing a forlorn glance over his shoulder at Niall and Harry. “Can’t do anything with him around. Always weirds me out. He’s too smart.”

“I used to do the same thing.” Harry shrugs. “I mean, without the DVD player, but it was the same basic concept.”

“Come on, before I start thinking about that too much.” Niall mutters, pulling Harry out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. “You first. I’ll follow.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry hums. “You first. I like watching your arse when you walk.”

“It’s not my arse you’ll be watching.” Niall mutters, stepping up onto the stairs and making his way towards the top floor.

“Why do you do that?” Harry asks once they reach the bedroom. “Why do you keep thinking the leg matters to me?”

“Because it does.” Niall sighs. “Harry, it matters.”

“Why?” Harry questions.

“Because it does.” Niall repeats harshly. “You- You aren’t Ashton. You’re not being paid to put up with it. This is the most there will ever be of me again, and- And I can’t fix that. My head- With time, and work, I might be something like normal again, but my leg never will be. I will always look like this. I will always have either a stump or a fake leg on.”

“I told you, you don’t need to be fixed, Niall.” Harry murmurs, gently pushing Niall back to sit on the bed before kneeling on the floor between his thighs. “I’ve known about this since before we met because of your application file. It’s never bothered me. I love you, and the fact that you only have one leg doesn’t change that.”

“I just- I just worry that, at this point, you only want to go forward with this so that you haven’t been wasting all of this time.” Niall whispers. “That you haven’t even realized what it really means to be with me. That you’re just doing this because you feel like you’re obligated to after everything that’s happened.”

“Give me some autonomy, Niall.” Harry says softly, pressing the button to power Bobby off before tugging at the socket to remove it. “I want to be with you for the same reason that I’ve always wanted to be with you. I love you. There’s nothing you can say or do to change that. Your leg doesn’t change that. I have seen you at your worst, and it’s never made me love you one iota less. It never made me doubt this. Not really. Please, please don’t think I could doubt this.”

“Harry-” Niall whimpers, seeing what’s coming too late to stop it when Harry presses his lips to the end of Niall’s stump in a gentle kiss.

“I love you.” Harry says adamantly. “I know what that means. We’ll figure things out together. Please- Just trust me.”

“I do.” Niall says quietly, cupping Harry’s cheek and drawing him up until their lips meet.

It’s the first real kiss they’ve had since that night, but, this time, there’s no guillotine blade hovering over them. There’s no impending sense of demise, because Niall is done fighting this fucking war. Maybe it’s selfish or stupid or doomed, but he just doesn’t have it in him to care about consequences any more. All he cares about is how right it feels to have Harry’s lips and skin against his own, and to finally say out loud that he loves him too.

So he does.

“I love you.” Niall breathes out in a contented sigh against Harry’s lips.

“I love you too.” Harry whispers. “God, it feels good to say that again. I missed saying it.”

“I missed hearing it.” Niall admits. “Fucking killed me every time you would say it, but- God- I missed it.”

“Lay down.” Harry murmurs, pressing another kiss to Niall’s lips before standing up. Niall doesn’t obey the order though. Not once Harry starts pulling his shirt off over his head, exposing his soft little tummy.

“Mm, don’t think I will.” Niall hums, leaning forward and nipping at the skin under Harry’s belly button. He pokes the tip of his tongue out from between his teeth, dragging it down the line of Harry’s sparse happy trail. He reaches the band of Harry’s pants, then brings his hands up to begin undoing the button on Harry’s jeans while the brunet shudders from the kisses and bites Niall peppers across his hips. “Didn’t properly get to touch you at all, last time.”

“I am on a hair trigger.” Harry mumbles, pressing his palm against Niall’s forehead and pushing him back. “Literally- I could burst at any moment. I haven’t gotten off in a month.”

“Why?” Niall asks, leaning back against the bed because Harry really does look like he’s about to cum any second with the way he’s biting his lip and straining against his jeans and flushed over every inch of exposed skin.

“Decided I should go celibate for a while once I chose to stop pursuing you.” Harry sighs. “And every time I touched myself- You were always on my mind, so it wasn’t really helping things. So I’ve just- Not.”

“Well, that needs to be remedied.” Niall smirks.

“Just give me a mo-” Harry says, pushing his jeans down his thighs and onto his ankles, followed quickly by his pants, leaving him to do some sort of weird jig to fight off his clothes until Niall has to pull him forward onto the bed just to keep him from toppling onto the ground. Harry buries his face in the duvet and adds, “Thanks.”

“Have you ever thought about wearing jeans that are slightly less tight?” Niall snorts, brushing the fringe out of Harry’s eyes.

“Never.” Harry grins. “I enjoy showing off too much. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist.”

“I never would have guessed.” Niall scoffs, smacking Harry lightly on the bum before settling back again. “The way you’ve always got your tits on display doesn’t give it away at all. Or those tiny shorts you run in. Or the way you walk around naked or nearly naked whenever possible.”

“A habit I hope to instill in you.” Harry giggles, rolling onto his back and pulling the fabric off of his right ankle first, followed by his left, until he’s finally left bare. “I’d love to see you going around naked all the time.”

“Never going to happen.” Niall tells him flatly. “I don’t enjoy it the way you do. Never have, even before all this happened to my body.”

“Mm, we’ll start you off easy, then.” Harry hums, scooting between Niall’s legs and tucking his fingers under the band of the briefs Niall still has on. “Just shirtless sometimes.”

“No.” Niall says adamantly.

“How about-” Harry muses, pulling the last garment that could separate them down Niall’s thighs, then off of his right leg. “You just go commando for me sometimes then? Would drive me fucking mad.”

“I- I’ll think about it.” Niall acquiesces. To be fair, he can’t really be expected to say no when Harry’s tongue is working its way up the underside of his dick. He only has so much willpower.

“Excellent.” Harry smirks, wrapping his hand around Niall’s cock and giving a slow pull that makes him shudder. “I thought you might see things my way.”

“Stop being so smug, and get up here.” Niall growls out, reaching down to fist his fingers in the hair on the back of Harry’s head. He tugs lightly, but enough that Harry gets the message and crawls up towards him.

Their lips meet as Harry begins straddling over Niall’s lap, leaning into him so that he’s pressed between Harry’s body and the headboard. There’s nothing rushed and feverish about it like last time, instead being more of a sensual meeting of lips and tongues while their hands explore the crevices of each other’s bodies that they hadn’t gotten to the first time around.

Niall’s fingers don’t just drift over each point he wants to feel, but take their time. He commits every inch to memory with his palms, from Harry’s broad shoulders to the firmness of his chest to the softness of his hips. He lets the pads of his fingers trace over every curve and dip and ridge with reverence, storing them away in his mind so that he’ll never forget an inch of the body belonging to this man he loves so dearly.

“Fuck.” Harry whimpers into Niall’s mouth. “Please- Niall- I need you to fuck me now. Can’t wait anymore. I’ve needed this for so long.”

“Hold on, love.” Niall murmurs against his lips. “Gotta open yourself up, first.”

“You. Please.” Harry whispers. “I want you to do it, if that’s okay.”

“I- I’ve never done that to anyone except myself.” Niall admits nervously. “Never been on that side of things.”

“Really?” Harry asks, pulling back and tilting his head curiously. “Not even with-”

“No.” Niall confirms, cutting him off because the last person he wants to think about right now is Ashton. Well- Actually- The last person he wants to think about is Louis or his da or someone like that, but the principle is the same. The only person he wants on his mind is Harry. “I’ve always bottomed.”

“That’s good.” Harry beams. “I get to be your first for something. I like that.”

“Do I ever get to be your first for anything?” Niall asks, hating the way he doesn’t even try to stop the question from slipping between his lips.

“I’ll have to see how kinky you’re willing to go before I can answer that.” Harry answers with a shit-eating grin. “There are a few things I’ve never done. How do you feel about-”

“Don’t even say whatever weird thing is on your mind.” Niall cuts him off. “I’ll either laugh or get grossed out, and neither is good for keeping me hard.”

“Then I guess we should get to the ‘good part’, as you put it last time. Supplies?” Harry asks.

“Top drawer.” Niall tells him, pointing to the end table on his left. “That side.”

“Excellent. Very practical.” Harry hums, leaning over without climbing out of Niall’s lap. He’s tall enough to do it, but, unfortunately for Niall, it causes his hips to shift around. His arse start squirming on top of Niall’s cock, and Niall feels like he’s going to explode.

He digs his fingers into Harry’s thighs, clamping them down so he can’t wiggle around anymore, and groans out, “Stop doing that.”

“Am I too heavy?” Harry asks with a pout, returning with the lube and a condom.

“No.” Niall chuckles. “You’re fine, love. Just had a bit of trouble handling you moving around on top of me like that. It was driving me wild.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Harry smirks.

“You don’t need to show off, love.” Niall murmurs, stroking Harry’s cheek. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Oh, we’ll work you up to fancy.” Harry grins. “Don’t want to overwhelm you on your first go. Tonight we’ll just go for spirited and passionate.”

“Sounds just like you.” Niall snorts.

“Like I said-” Harry hums, leaning in and pressing the words against Niall’s lips. “You haven’t seen anything yet, babe.”

“Not that.” Niall mutters, shaking his head and breaking the kiss. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Harry whines.

“Just- Not that.” Niall tells him, deciding not to mention Ashton’s pet name in this moment. It’s not the right time.

“Fine, but I’m going to pick something really embarrassing and soppy, and you can’t argue it.” Harry huffs.

“That’s fine.” Niall says with a soft smile.

“Alright.” Harry acquiesces. “Now shove your bloody fingers in my arse so we can get going. Because you look exhausted, and, if you fall asleep during this, I will never forgive you.”

“Jaysus.” Niall hisses, his cock giving a hard throb and slapping up against the swell of Harry’s arse.

“No, I’m Harry.” Harry giggles, grabbing Niall’s left hand and holding it up to pour lube over with his other. It gets everywhere, a slick mess that drips onto Niall’s stomach and his own thighs, and Niall is definitely going to need to take the duvet off the bed, because he’ll never be able to sleep with it covered in this stuff.

And that’s such a mundane thought to have at a time like this. It seems so weird to him to be thinking about linens when he and Harry are taking this first step together. But then he realizes that maybe that’s a good thing. It’s mundane. It’s random, and stupid, and there’s no sense of dread or pain or doom. There’s no thought of how this is just a stolen moment that they shouldn’t be having.

It’s just love, and tenderness, and a warm ball of anticipation in Niall’s chest. Anticipation for the future, which is something he hasn’t felt in over two years.

“Alright, go slow, because I haven’t done this in a while.” Harry says, lifting up and guiding Niall’s hand between his legs until the blond’s fingers are pressed against his hole. “It’s not really that different from doing it to yourself.”

“Just let me know if I’m hurting you or anything, yeah?” Niall requests.

“I will.” Harry agrees easily. “So just-”

Anticipating the end of that sentence, Niall presses the pad of his middle finger against Harry’s entrance, and pushes in just a bit.

Harry cuts himself off with some sort of strangled wheeze, and Niall worries that he’s done something wrong, but Harry’s hand clenches around his wrist like a vice when he tries to pull his finger out, and hisses, “Don’t you dare!”

“What did I do?” Niall asks.

“Nothing wrong.” Harry assures him, pressing their foreheads together. “I just- I’m more sensitive than I thought. Having you in me- It makes me feel like I’m going to burst already.”

“It’s alright if you do.” Niall tells him, pushing his finger in slowly until it’s at the base. “We don’t have to go all the way, or even do anything. I just want you to feel good.”

“I feel amazing.” Harry breathes out, lifting up a bit and then pushing back down on Niall’s finger. “And it’ll only feel better once your dick is in me. So hurry up and get me open, because I want to cum with you fully inside me.”

“Jaysus.” Niall grunts out again, retracting his finger and then pushing it back in.

He goes slowly at first, waiting until he feels Harry’s body getting used to the one finger before he goes to two, and then three, each time only after a whining plea for more. And Harry said that it’s like doing it to yourself, but it really isn’t. Because Niall can’t even think straight with Harry so tight around him like this. He can barely catch his breath, because Harry’s heat and his tightness and the noises he’s making are all doing their damnedest to make Niall cum before he can even get inside of Harry.

“God-” Harry whimpers, breathing the words into Niall’s mouth as he rocks back and forth on the blond’s fingers. “I’m ready. Please- Please tell me you’re good to go.”

“If I get any more ‘good to go’, we’re not going to be doing anything at all.” Niall mutters, pressing down on the spot that’s been getting the best keens out of Harry.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Harry groans, lifting himself off of Niall’s fingers and grabbing the condom, only to shove it against Niall’s chest. “Put this on. And, sometime this week we need to go get tested. Because, if possible, I’d really like this to be one of the last times we have to use one of these.”

“Fuck.” Niall whines, fisting his hands in his duvet and thinking some distinctly unsexy thoughts about walking Conan in order to keep himself from unloading on the spot at that idea. “Don’t say things like that when I’m already so fucking-”

“You’d be my first.” Harry cuts him off with a low murmur, pressed into the skin beneath his ear. “Never let anyone do that to me before.”

“I’ll set up an appointment tomorrow.” Niall agrees, wedging the foil between his teeth with the hand that wasn’t just in Harry’s arse, and tearing it open. He knows that it’s a stupid idea. He knows that half the time the condom ends up tearing, and it’s just not a good way to do that, but he doesn’t care.

He’s too riled up to think rationally at the moment, and it worked anyways.

“Wait- I’ll put it on.” Harry tells him. “No point in moving around and delaying this. You just get some more lube for your dick, and be ready, because I need you inside me as soon as possible.”

“You’re very demanding.” Niall snorts, grabbing the lube and squirting a bit onto his already lubed hand.

“I have been waiting for this since last summer.” Harry huffs, lifting up and reaching behind himself to grasp Niall’s dick with one hand, and place the condom with the other. “It’s Valentine’s day on Tuesday. I get to be demanding after you’ve made me wait so long. Haven’t had a dick in my arse in over half a year, and that’s just not something I can be patient about anymore.”

Niall has only vaguely heard any of what Harry said since he started rolling on the condom, too consumed in the pleasure to pay much mind to the words being said.

So he just slurs out, “Whatever you say, love.”

“Oh, you’re too easy. Now I know how to get whatever I want from you.” Harry says with a smirk, releasing Niall’s prick.

“Tonight.” Niall tells him. “That’s not going to work whenever you want it to.”

“We’ll see.” Harry grins, pulling Niall’s hand around. “Hurry up.”

“Seems like I could get anything I want from you just by holding out.” Niall hums, slicking himself up.

“I think you’ve held out on me long enough.” Harry grumbles, batting Niall’s hand away to replace it with his own. “Seven months is plenty, thanks.”

“Hey, I was doing that for-” is all Niall manages to get out before Harry is sliding down on him, and Niall’s world flips inside out and upside down at the same time.

It’s nothing like a hand or a mouth. It’s warm and tight and Niall can’t even fucking breathe, because it feels like his entire body is floating in some ocean of pleasure. Waves crest every time Harry takes in another inch, and Niall’s having to dig his nails into his palms as hard as he can just to keep himself composed.

“God!” Harry chokes out as he settles his arse flush against Niall’s hips. His fingers dig into Niall’s biceps, and he knows there are probably going to be bruises, but he can’t feel any pain. “Please tell me you feel that.”

“I do.” Niall answers, lacing his fingers into Harry’s hair. “God- I hope it always feels like this between us.”

“Never felt anything like this with anyone before.” Harry admits in a whisper. “Only you. It’s just like last time. Like- Like I can feel you inside and outside, everywhere all at once.”

“That’s it.” Niall nods, his nose brushing against Harry’s and sending a shock of pain through his system that he still barely feels. “Like I’m wrapped up in you, but I can feel you in my chest too.”

“You good for me to get started?” Harry asks. “Because I’d really like to get started.”

“Can’t say I’m going to last long.” Niall admits.

“I’m surprised I haven’t cum already, so it’s nothing to worry about.” Harry chuckles.

He doesn’t give Niall a chance to say anything else before he’s lifting up, and then dropping back down. It’s only an inch or two, but it’s more than enough to make Niall throw his head back against the headboard and groan from deep in his chest. Harry’s fingers curl against Niall’s torso, and he moves again, letting out a moan that Niall can’t describe as anything except pornographic.

But nothing about the look on Harry’s face says that it’s fake. The pleasure there doesn’t seem to be a put on act, or just for show.

He starts slow, but quickly works himself up to something more intense until the headboard is smacking against the wall hard enough that Niall knows he’s going to have to re-plaster and paint it. His arse is being pushed into the mattress with a groan of springs that are almost as loud as the obscene squelching and skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. But the only sound Niall wants to focus on is the symphony coming out of Harry.

He can’t seem to decide whether he wants to let himself moan openly or not. Occasionally they slip out, loud and low and echoing. But other times he bites his lip and muffles himself down to whimpers that send shivery fingers racing down Niall’s spine like an electric shock. And as much as Niall enjoys those, he never wants Harry to mute himself in any way.

So he pulls Harry in for another kiss, prying apart his lips with his tongue to make sure he can get the full experience. Harry’s hands slide up from Niall’s chest to lace into his hair, gripping on for dear life as he kisses back fiercely and rides Niall just a bit sloppier and moans without abandon as if he knows Niall is trying to encourage it.

Niall drops just one of his hands down between the two of them to wrap around Harry’s cock. He only barely gets his hand on it before Harry is gasping into his mouth and tightening around his cock and shooting hard onto Niall’s stomach and chest.

Niall isn’t even a second behind, breathing out a little prayer of Harry’s name on repeat against the brunet’s open mouth as he fills up the condom.

They stay like that for what feels like ages, holding each other tightly and nearly suffocating because they don’t want to let their lips part enough to get a proper breath of air. Niall’s skin is still buzzing with Harry’s touch, and he never wants it to end.

And it doesn’t, even when Harry pulls off and rolls over to Niall’s right side, arm thrown around the blond’s waist.

“I’ll get up in a minute and find us something to clean off with.” Harry slurs out into Niall’s neck.

“No.” Niall tells him, pulling off the condom and tying it before tossing it in the bin beside the nightstand. “Just lift up off the duvet.”

“You’re gross.” Harry giggles when Niall pulls loose the duvet and wipes himself clean. He offers a clean corner to Harry, and the brunet wipes up the stray streaks of cum from his own torso before Niall tosses it on the floor.

“No, I just didn’t want you to be any farther from me than this.” Niall murmurs, settling down in the bed after draping his sheet across the lower halves of their bodies. He wraps his arm around the back of Harry’s neck, pulling the brunet down to rest on his shoulder, and laces his other hand with Harry’s.

“Can’t believe you kept this with you all the time.” Harry says quietly, nosing at Niall’s ring on his chest.

“Almost stopped, once I realized you weren’t wearing yours anymore.” Niall admits. “Thought it meant you’d finally given up on me. I could never actually work up the strength to lift this up over my head, though.”

“It’s in my pocket.” Harry tells him. “I always kept it on me too. I just stopped wearing it, because- Because I knew you’d know I was still completely gone for you, and I didn’t want to keep making things harder. Can I get up real quick to put on?”

“Just a mo.” Niall chuckles, leaning off the edge of the bed and scooping up the leg of Harry’s jeans from the floor. He passes them over to Harry, who promptly roots out the ring and slips it onto his right ring finger, the point facing his wrist, before settling back into their previous position. “So- I still have it then? Your heart, I mean.”

“You never stopped having it.” Harry whispers, pressing his lips against Niall’s. “Say it again.”

“I really fucking love you.” Niall breathes out.

“I really fucking love you too.” Harry says with a soft smile, pressing Niall back into the pillow to snog until they both fall asleep, too wrapped up in each other to care about the early dawn light sneaking in through the curtains.


	36. Chapter 36

Niall wakes up to his mobile’s alarm blaring to let him know that the realtor will be here in two hours. Only, it’s quieter than usual, and nothing happens when Niall smacks his hand down where his mobile should be. Reflex gives way to conscious though, and Niall springs up, distinctly missing the warmth of the body that should be next to him.

Panic starts to well up in Niall’s throat at the thought that Harry was just using him last night as a way of getting back at him before they separated. Or, worse, that Harry realized what being with Niall entails, and bailed before he would have to follow through with it. In either case, Niall wouldn’t blame him, but it still fucking hurts.

But then Harry is barreling through the door, arse first, carrying a tray of food and humming along to the marimba tune. He’s dressed in Niall’s shirt from the first night of the gala, and only that, which doesn’t really cover much of anything. Niall can’t even figure out why he bothered with it, seeing as it’s hanging open, but he’s much too relieved about Harry’s presence to care. His hair is messy, standing up all over, and he’s still got a bit of smeared foundation on the cheek he didn’t have pressed to Niall’s shoulder all night.

He’s absolutely the most beautiful thing Niall has ever seen.

“Oh, you’re up.” Harry hums around the corner of a piece of toast he has jammed in his mouth. “Did you miss me?”

“I- I thought you’d left.” Niall admits.

“Now, why would you think that?” Harry chuckles, dropping himself sideways into Niall’s lap with the tray balanced on his own. “I left a note on the pillow for you.”

“I literally just woke up a minute ago.” Niall sighs, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and burying his face in the brunet’s neck. “You just weren’t here, and I thought you had decided you didn’t want this.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Harry says gently, pressing a kiss to Niall’s forehead. “Except that nasty bruise on your face. Does it hurt?”

“Not horribly.” Niall tells him, though it is rather hard to breathe, now that he thinks about it. “Not half as bad as when I thought you’d left.”

“This is a much better morning so far than the last time we slept together.” Harry hums. “Didn’t think you’d be clingy.”

“Neither did I.” Niall mumbles. “Guess I just found something new to fight for, and I thought I wasn’t going to get to now.”

“I thought you were done fighting this.” Harry mutters, his smile falling off his face and his eyes casting down towards the ground. “God fucking-”

“Not fighting us.” Niall cuts him off, wrapping his hand around Harry’s jaw and pulling him so their foreheads are touching. “Pay attention when I talk. I want to fight for us. For us, love, not against.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” Harry huffs, batting at Niall’s shoulder.

“What part of my clinginess seems like I was about to kick you out?” Niall chuckles.

“Just- Just preparing myself, based on previous experience.” Harry says quietly.

Niall winces before acquiescing with a soft, “Fair. I deserve that. I haven’t done much to build up your trust. I’m going to work for it, though. I promise.”

“We both will.” Harry says gently. “I’ve not always shown my best side in our history. I’ve been an angry, pushy brat, and I’ll be better about that.”

“I was pushing you to react that way.” Niall reminds him.

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Harry argues.

“No, but-” Niall starts, only to have the rest of Harry’s slice of toast shoved in his mouth unceremoniously.

“Exactly.” Harry grins. “No ‘but’s. I’m glad you agree with me, so that we don’t have to argue.”

“We were both arses, then.” Niall says around the toast. He takes a bite and then pulls the rest out before adding, “This had better be butter, and not my cum.”

Harry’s only reaction is to cackle so hard he sends the tray to the floor. Niall doesn’t care, though. He’ll clean it up in a minute. The only thing he’s concerned with is the beautiful man smiling sheepishly in his arms.

 

“Why do you do that?” Niall asks, watching Harry patter around the kitchen to clean up their dishes after Niall cooked them a second breakfast. He’s wearing a pair of too tight, too short joggers that he nicked out of Niall’s drawer, and still has the shirt on. “Steal my clothes, I mean.”

“Do you expect me to walk around this house all day in a suit?” Harry asks with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t you get cheeky with me, Harry Styles.” Niall scoffs. “You’ve been stealing my clothes since August. Started with the golf kit I gave you. Then there was the clothes you took when you lived here. Then you stole my shirt at Christmas. I’m not saying you have to give them back. I just want to know why you keep doing it.”

“I like the way they feel.” Harry admits with a blush. “Everything is so comfortable. And it all smells like you until I’ve had it for too long. So I went out and bought your cologne, and now I spray it on them when the scent fades.”

“They literally do not make them soppier than you.” Niall chuckles.

“Says the bloke who came up on stage last night and played with me, just so that I wouldn’t humiliate myself.” Harry counters with a smug smile. “Even brought along your mates.”

“Well, I set the whole thing up. How would it reflect on me if you failed miserably?” Niall grins. “Can’t have your stage fright ruining my reputation.”

“It was not stage fright!” Harry squawks indignantly. “My stupid band abandoned me because I had a moment!”

“What did you break?” Niall sighs.

“A bass.” Harry sighs. “Started with this little stained glass music note that someone sent me- I think it was him- and then it was some champagne glasses, and then I kind of took my rampage on tour and broke a bass guitar.”

“That, um- That wasn’t from him.” Niall mumbles. “I sent that to you.”

“What?” Harry asks, his eyes going wide.

“I- I just wanted to get you something that would maybe make you smile.” Niall admits. “I picked that out, because it was so gaudy and ridiculous, yet charming, and it seemed like something you’d like. An old tiffany lamp shaped like a music note seemed quintessentially you. But I didn’t put a note with it, because I didn’t think you’d want to know it was from me.”

“Oh god. I’m sorry!” Harry squeaks out.

“It’s fine, love.” Niall chuckles. “I should have known better.”

“But you got me a present, and I smashed it. And then I stomped on the broken shards.” Harry says sadly. “If I’d known it was from you-”

“It would have gotten the same treatment.” Niall finishes for him. “You were rightfully pissed off at me.”

“Because you purposefully tried to make me hate you.” Harry huffs. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

“Yeah.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Because you’re a model of self-control.”

“I refuse to be tamed.” Harry grins. “I’ve always been a wild-child.”

“A diva, you mean.” Niall smirks. Harry opens his mouth to say something, but Niall quickly adds, “And remember you broke a bass guitar last night, so you don’t really have room to argue.”

“Okay.” Harry says after a moment. “Fair. We’re both pretty dramatic.”

“You’re definitely the more dramatic one.” Niall says, taking a drink of his coffee.

“Don’t be cruel.” Harry pouts. “You made me crazy. Still do. I can’t help if I express that with a lot of emotion.”

“You thought that worked, didn’t you?” Niall chuckles, leaning his chin on his elbow. “I caught you, love. Not slipping it past me.”

“Damn.” Harry huffs.

“Spent a lot of time listening to your boy, lately.” Niall tells him. “You’re going to have a hard time ever beating me again.”

“You’re never going to know his music better than I do.” Harry says, bristling at the comment.

“Probably not, no.” Niall agrees. “But I’ll know it enough for you to have a difficult time trying to sneak a lyric past me. Might even get one past you, if I time it right.”

“Bring it on, Horan.” Harry growls, stalking around the island and plopping back into his seat. “It’ll never work.”

“Never realized you were so competitive.” Niall hums. “Besides with Ash, that is.”

“Ashton can’t compete with me.” Harry scoffs.

“Definitely wins a contest of humility.” Niall snorts.

“Do you want to be with him?” Harry asks, voice going soft as his head drops down. “With Ashton?”

“No.” Niall says gently, reaching across the space between them to hold Harry’s hand. “Not like that. He’s my best mate, and I love him. He’s an important part of my life, and he’s my safe place, but he’s not you, Harry. You’re the only one I’m in love with.”

“I want to be your safe place.” Harry whispers. “I want to be the one you think of as your best friend. I want to be the one you talk to when you’re scared or angry or happy. I want to be the one who knows you best, inside and out.”

“That’ll take time.” Niall says softly. “Just like it did with Louis and Ash. But you are a safe place for me, Harry. You are. I think that’s half the reason I fought so hard against us. It’s so fucking easy to be vulnerable with you, and that’s scary for me. So- Just give me time, alright? I know this has been building up for a while, but we’re only just now actually starting anything for real, and it’s going to take time to develop in a healthy way. We can’t just dive into this headfirst.”

“I know.” Harry sighs. “I just- I need to know that you’re not going to just run off to him all the time. That you’ll at least try with me first, before you go to him.”

“Unless it’s about you, I’ll always try with you first.” Niall nods. “But I’m going to need someone to go to when I have to bitch about you, and how mad you drive me.”

“Hey.” Harry pouts. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, like Gemma doesn’t know every sordid detail of our entire history, up to this point.” Niall says flatly.

Harry blushes deeply and just mutters out, “Fair,” in response.

“And, at least Ash doesn’t hate you like Gemma does me.” Niall adds.

“Gemma doesn’t hate you.” Harry sighs. “She’s just not a fan of you and likes to call you a lot of really interesting curse words. It’s fine. She’ll get over it, now that we’re together.”

“Or she’ll try to kill me.” Niall says dryly.

“She’ll be happy for us.” Harry says adamantly, giving Niall’s fingers a squeeze. “And, if she isn’t, she’ll pretend to be until she actually is.”

“Just don’t leave me alone with her until that happens.” Niall requests. “It’s whenever you’re not around that she goes all ‘Sarah Connor’ on me.”

“Who?” Harry asks.

“You know- From the ‘Terminator’ series.” Niall snorts. Harry just looks even more confused, so Niall says, “She kills robots, love.”

“Gemma wouldn’t kill you.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “And you’re still a human. A cyborg at best, honestly, but I think you’d need more technology to qualify for that.”

“You know what a cyborg is, but not who Sarah Connor is?” Niall asks, trying in vain to fight the smile forming on his lips.

“I was in talks to play Robin in a live action ‘Teen Titans’ film before the tape leaked and they decided not to do the movie with porn-star stink all over it.” Harry answers with a shrug. “A character in that is a cyborg. His name is even-”

“Cyborg.” Niall finishes for him with a laugh. “I know. Louis and Liam both enjoy their fair share of comics.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Harry whines, releasing his hold on Niall’s hand just to cross his arms over his chest.

“Like what?” Niall questions, raising a brow.

“Like everything I say is so fucking stupid or something.” Harry huffs.

“That’s just how my face translates ‘I love you, and I think you’re adorable’.” Niall hums. “Because I love you, and I think you’re adorable.”

 

Niall can actually hear Harry’s nervous gulp from the doorway, and his stomach drops down when Harry says, “Come in, inspector. He’s right in here.”

Niall has been dreading this since he woke up, but he’s mostly been able to put it out of his mind. Having Harry here has helped, given him something to focus on other than what could quite possibly be another court date and jail time for assault. He doesn’t think they’ll let him keep Bobby in prison.

“Mister Horan?” the officer, a portly man who looks more bored than anything asks when he steps into the sitting room.

“That’s me.” Niall nods. “I assume you’re here about what happened at the Hilton last night?”

“I am.” the man nods, taking a seat in the chair across from Niall. “I need to take a statement, which we could have done last night, if you hadn’t fled the scene.”

“I wasn’t trying to flee the scene.” Niall tells him. “We were afraid my nose was broken, and we decided to get it checked out. I knew Mister Breslin would give you my address and name, inspector-”

“Holmes, no relation.” the inspector says with a short chuckle. “Was your nose broken?”

“Just bruised.” Niall answers. “And leaking a pretty significant amount of blood.”

“Alright, I’d like you to give me your own recollection of events, please.” Holmes says, settling back against the chair as Harry brings a tray of tea into the room and sets it on the table before taking a seat next to Niall.

“I was talking to a friend when I overheard Harry here yell at the bloke to let him go.” Niall explains, putting his hand on Harry’s knee. “I went over and tried to tell the guy to leave him alone, but he wouldn’t listen. I shoved him by the shoulders, and then he hit me so hard my leg fell off, and-”

“This is for an official police report, Mister Horan.” Holmes cuts him off. “No hyperbole, please.”

“It’s not exaggeration.” Niall sighs, rolling up the leg on his sweats to expose Bobby. “He hit me so hard that I fell out of my prosthetic.”

“I’m sorry.” Holmes says, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “I didn’t mean- I wasn’t-”

“I’m not offended.” Niall assures him. “It’s a weird thing to hear. It’s a weird thing to say, honestly. Anyway, after that, I can’t tell you what happened, because I went into a post-traumatic stress episode, so I don’t have any recollection. From what I’ve been told, I tried to get back at him, and he hit me again, and then Mister Breslin picked me up and carried me off to put me in a closet to keep me from doing any more damage to anyone. Everything that happened after the initial punch is a black spot for me.”

“He continued to hit you after your leg fell off?” Holmes asks incredulously.

“Like I said, I don’t know for sure.” Niall shrugs. “Just what I’ve been told.”

“He did.” Harry nods. 

“But only because I apparently still tried to continue the fight.” Niall says quietly. “I can’t control myself when I’m in that state. I’ve been working with a therapist to reduce the frequency, but, in a situation like that, there’s not really any time to do my exercises that help me from slipping. I just knew he was hurting someone I love, and I tried to stop it. If you need to take me in, I understand, and I won’t fight it.”

“There won’t be any need for that right now.” Holmes says, closing his notepad. “The other man involved in the incident has a record, and I don’t think he’s going to want to take this to trial for fear of a counter-suit. Do you mind if I ask-”

“I lost my foot in Syria.” Niall answers, already anticipating the question. “I was taken hostage by a terrorist cell masquerading as a rebel group while there with a non-profit to dig wells in remote villages.”

“You’re one of the LiveWell Ten.” Holmes says softly. “I thought I recognized your name. I always wondered what happened to them after the news stopped talking about it.”

“Most of us are dead.” Niall tells him. “Just me and one other left.”

“I’m sorry.” Holmes says quietly. “I just want to say- Thank you for your service.”

“I wasn’t a soldier.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“No, I wasn’t saying it that way.” Holmes says, pushing himself up from his chair. “My daughter went on three trips with LiveWell, and I went on the last one with her to Nigeria. Organizations like that serve a higher purpose, helping people at their own risk. Compassion is a truer form of service than any other, and, if I remember correctly, you were the son of the founder. You spent your life helping people, and that’s the service I want to thank you for. I’ll let you know how this progresses, but I don’t anticipate any bumps in the road here. It should disappear quietly in a few days.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out, letting Conan haul him up and sticking his hand out to Inspector Holmes to shake. “And thank you for working with LiveWell. I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet then, but every volunteer was just as much a part of it as I was while it still existed.”

“I thought it was just based out of New York, now?” Holmes asks, crinkling his eyebrows in confusion.

“Only for a few more weeks.” Niall explains. “It’s being shut down after that, because the company that bought it doesn’t want to run it anymore, and I don’t have the funds to buy it back.”

“That’s a damn shame.” Holmes says, shaking his head and releasing Niall’s hand. “My daughter and I wanted to do another trip one day.”

“I can make a list of similar organizations for you.” Niall offers. “If you have a card, I can email them to you.”

“That would be brilliant, thank you.” Holmes says, pulling a card out of his pocket and handing it over. “Have a good day, Mister Horan.”

“So, that’s really it?” Harry asks quietly once he escorts Holmes out. “LiveWell is ending?”

“I don’t have any options left.” Niall tells him.

“Let me give you the rest of the money.” Harry tells him.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Niall says, shaking his head. “It’s done, Harry.”

“Niall-” Harry whispers.

“Harry-” Niall cuts him off. “Do you know what the next year, at least, of my life would be if I bought back LiveWell and ran it? Meetings, and flights back and forth between London and New York, and finding space for setting up the offices here. I’d be essentially rebuilding a charity that does over one-hundred-million pounds a year worth of work, but with even more work, because I’d also be running an organization that’s trying to make a transcontinental move. That was fine before we were together, but- But it’s not okay now. I can’t be trying to run LiveWell and be starting a relationship with you. There’s not enough of me to go around for that.”

“But LiveWell is part of you.” Harry says softly, slipping his hand into Niall’s.

“And so are you.” Niall tells him. “And, as much as I want to do right by my da, I’m not going to let you feel like you’re not important to me ever again. I’ve been making that choice for too long to let it keep happening.”

“I can’t be the reason that you don’t get LiveWell back.” Harry murmurs.

“You aren’t.” Niall assures him. “You’re the reason I want something more than LiveWell in my life, and that I can accept losing it. You’re the reason that I don’t want my da’s life, but my own.”

“I just can’t have you resenting me for not taking this chance.” Harry says with a shaky breath. “I have the money, Niall. And I’ll give it to you if you ask. If you really want this, then you have the chance.”

“I want you.” Niall answers. “Just you. And I don’t want to spend the next year having to be apart from you anymore.”

“What about your father?” Harry asks.

“He’d want me to be happy.” Niall shrugs. “That’s what everyone keeps saying, and I know they’re right. It’s hard to let it go, but not as hard as the thought of letting you slip through my fingers again. Besides, if I give you a year where we’re trying to keep something up when I’m not even in the country half the time, that’ll give you too much opportunity to go and fall in love with the next surly bloke you help.”

“I’ve only got eyes for one surly bloke, thank you very much.” Harry says haughtily, pulling Niall forward against his chest. “And, now that I’ve caught you, I’m not letting you get away.”

“Reckon that’s alright with me.” Niall breathes out, leaning into the kiss Harry presses against his lips.

Of course, like all great things, it’s destined to end prematurely. Just as Harry begins winding his fingers into Niall’s hair, there’s a ring of the doorbell.

“I’ll get it.” Harry sighs against Niall’s mouth. “Hold that thought from three seconds ago. I want to revisit it.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Niall hums, pecking Harry on the corner of his mouth before shooing him off.

Luckily, Niall gets something to occupy himself in the meantime. Not-so-luckily, it’s a text from Ashton, asking him to meet them at the police station with some clothes for Louis and Luke, because they were razzed on by some bloke in the drunk tank.

“Niall, there’s someone here for you.” Harry says confusedly, walking back into the sitting room. “He’s got a kid, and he says he needs to talk to you about-”

“Hey.” the guy says, stepping into the doorway behind Harry, looking over his shoulder. “Sorry- Just- It’s freezing out there, and the wee one here has been fighting a cold.”

“What are you doing here?” Niall snarls, bristling at the sight of the man in front of him. “Here to bilk more money out of me?”

“Niall-” he sighs.

“I’m not giving you another pound after the last time we saw each other.” Niall says harshly. “Not one.”

“Oh god.” Harry sighs, moving to stand next to Niall. “Who’s this, then? Another ex? Am I going to have to stop you from attempting murder again?”

“This twat-” Niall huffs, waving his hand towards the other man. “Is my brother. Harry, meet Greg.”


	37. Chapter 37

“And I’m not positive, since I’ve never been allowed to meet him, but I believe that’s his son, Theo.” Niall finishes with a scowl.

“That’s your brother?” Harry asks.

“Yup.” Niall nods. “The same one who agreed with my mum that I deserved what happened to me in Syria because I happen to fancy blokes. So, what are you here for, Greg? To insult me a bit more? To get a piece of the house? What?”

“Niall, can we just talk without it turning into a fight?” Greg asks weakly.

“Why break the only family tradition I’ve ever been included in?” Niall says snidely. “All we’ve ever done is fight. The only reasons you’ve ever paid attention to me were to torture me or ask for money.”

Harry’s mobile goes off in his pocket, doing nothing to aid the tension. Harry pulls it out and sighs.

“I need to take this.” Harry mutters. He walks towards Greg, holding out his arms. “Here. I’ll take him to the kitchen and fix him a snack. Don’t need someone his age seeing his father and uncle fight like this. Any allergies?”

“Strawberries.” Greg nods, passing Theo over into Harry’s arms. “And he hates peanuts.”

“I’ll figure something out.” Harry hums, settling Theo on his hip and walking off while answering his phone with a chirpy, “James, what’s up?”

“You sure you want to do that?” Niall sneers. “He’s my boyfriend. I know how you want to shield Theo from that sort of sinfulness.”

“Niall-” Greg sighs.

“And he’s an ex-porn-star.” Niall adds venomously. “That kind of sin doesn’t just wash away, right? He could be infecting Theo right now.”

“Jaysus, you have Bobby’s stubborn streak!” Greg groans. “Will you let me talk instead of shoving words in my mouth?”

“They’re words you’ve said to me!” Niall hisses.

“I was a little fucked in the head, Niall!” Greg snaps.

“You told me I deserved to be tortured and nearly killed because I like men!” Niall growls. “I’m a little fucked in the head. You’re a fucking cunt.”

“Okay, yeah.” Greg says quietly, leaning against the doorframe. “I was. And I know you probably don’t want to see me ever again, and I haven’t earned the right to even speak to you, but I flew here on the off chance that you’d give me a little bit of time to say my piece.”

“Well, what do you want, then?” Niall asks, sitting against the arm of the couch and scratching behind Conan’s ear when the lab protectively moves in front of him.

“I want to try to start making amends.” Greg answers. “And I want to be a part of your life, if you’ll let me.”

“What’s changed?” Niall sighs. “For my whole life, you’ve wanted nothing to do with me. The last time we spoke, you said just about the worst thing anyone could say to someone. So what’s changed?”

“A lot.” Greg whispers. “I- I’ve been getting professional help for the last year or so, now.”

“Didn’t know therapists acknowledged being a twat as a mental health issue.” Niall scoffs.

“They don’t.” Greg says flatly. “But they do tend to acknowledge depression, bipolar disorder, and alcohol addiction.”

“Well- Shite.” Niall grumbles. “Now I’m the arsehole.”

“No.” Greg chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s still me.”

“Don’t expect me to argue that.” Niall snorts.

“I don’t.” Greg says quietly, shaking his head. “I’ve never put my best foot forward with you. You have every right to refuse to forgive me, or even let me speak. But I hope you’ll give me a chance to at least try.”

“Bringing the kid helps.” Niall admits. “I’ve always had a soft spot for wee ones.”

“Keep him if you want.” Greg chuckles. “He’s stretched the ‘terrible twos’ into age three. Plus, I could finally get some sleep.”

“Look like you could use it.” Niall smirks. “Guess the Horan looks can only pass to one offspring.”

“Ah, but I got the Gallagher facial hair.” Greg counters. “You and Bobby could never grow it worth a damn. Only follows your jaw, and it never comes up on your cheeks except in ugly patches.”

“Alright.” Niall concedes. “Neither of us won the genetic lottery. We’re short and we’ve only got half-functional brains.”

“Can’t put on weight to save our lives.” Greg nods. “And dodgy knees run in the family.”

“Only have to worry about one of those.” Niall shrugs. “And it’s held up pretty well to all the abuse. But, compared to the robot leg, getting a knee put in sounds relatively simple.”

“Shite!” Greg hisses. “Of course. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”

“Trust me, you couldn’t say anything about it that I haven’t already said.” Niall tells him.

“But still-” Greg sighs. “That wasn’t something I should say to someone in your condition. It’s not a joke for you.”

“Greg.” Niall says his name firmly to grab his attention. “I’m not that sensitive little lad anymore. I’m not that kid you could put in a headlock until I agreed to do your maths for you. I have literally been tortured. You’re not going to shoot past that to win the title of ‘worst wanker’ with a joke about bad knees. Hell, have you seen my face? You don’t even win ‘worst wanker’ for the last twenty-four hours of my life. I’m not fragile.”

“I know you aren’t.” Greg says with a soft smile. “You never were. For all I did to you, you never cried or anything. I might’ve been able to put you in the headlocks, but you knew how to get me back worse. Remember that time you waited until I was talking to Fiona Kelly, and you put a mouse down the back of my trousers?”

“You made me do all your chores, and threatened to break something and tell Maura I’d done it just because she’d believe you over me.” Niall huffs. “I was shorter than the vacuum cleaner, and the bag exploded when I tried to change it. I should have put it down the front of your trousers after all that.”

“Well, if Bobby had taught you how to do chores instead of taking you all over the place to chase his dream, then you’d have known how to release the bag without tearing it.” Greg says with a roll of his eyes.

“And if Maura had taught you how to express your feelings in a healthy way, maybe you wouldn’t have turned to the bottle like every other drunk paddy.” Niall counters with a growl. “If you really want back in my life like you say, insulting da and LiveWell isn’t the way to go. Especially today.”

“Sorry.” Greg mutters. “I’m still working through my issues with Bobby. It’s- It’s slow going. There’s a lot to get through, there.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Niall scoffs. “The father that bought you your first car, and paid for you to go to university, and shelled out for your wedding- Who put the down payment on your bloody house- And who you only spoke to when you needed money- Was such a burden on you.”

“I- I didn’t come here to fight, Niall.” Greg says, though it’s strained, like he really fucking wants to. “This isn’t about me and Bobby, or you and mum. This is about the two of us maybe becoming more than just brothers in name only. Or, at the very least, me trying to make amends for the things I’ve said and done in the past that have hurt you.”

“Niall-” Harry says quietly, stepping into the room with Theo on his hip, happily munching away on a carrot stick. “I have to go.”

“Something wrong?” Niall asks, his entire body going on alert at the way Harry looks so stressed all of the sudden.

“James needs me to go in today.” Harry sighs. “Simon has something to talk to us about. I tried to beg out of it, but-”

“It’s fine.” Niall tells him. “Go do what you need to do. It’s probably plans for the new center.”

“But we haven’t talked yet.” Harry says, passing Theo off to Greg and walking over to Niall.

“We’ve got no time limit anymore, yeah?” Niall asks with a soft smile, cupping Harry’s cheek in his hand. “Just come back when you’ve finished.”

“Promise you won’t change your mind?” Harry begs in a whisper.

“I promise, love.” Niall murmurs, drawing Harry in to press a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m not running anymore.”

“I love you.” Harry breathes out.

“I love you too.” Niall grins, tapping the matching rings on their fingers together just to remind him. “So go put on some clothes that actually fit you, and get going. The sooner you get there, the sooner you can come back to me.”

“I’m stealing one of your jumpers.” Harry smirks, pecking Niall on the cheek and heading off towards the entryway.

“You’re going to have to start paying for my clothes if you’re going to take them all the time!” Niall calls after him, only to be replied to with a loud cackle that Niall is sure means trouble for him down the line.

“Do you need to go somewhere?” Greg asks.

“Actually, I do.” Niall admits. “But, if you’re serious about wanting to make amends, you can start by driving me somewhere with your rental.”

 

“A police station?” Greg asks incredulously as they pull up in front of Niall’s destination.

“Yup.” Niall nods. “Have to bring some things to some friends.”

“In jail?” Greg questions.

“It’s complicated.” Niall shrugs. “Still want to be a part of my life and expose your son to me and my ways?”

“Are you part of the reason they’re in there?” Greg asks.

“They got thrown in the drunk tank for beating the guy who did this to me.” Niall explains, pointing to his nose.

“Did you deserve it?” Greg asks.

“He grabbed Harry.” Niall answers. “I shouldn’t have shoved him, but he refused to back off and leave Harry alone.”

“Then it sounds like they didn’t do anything wrong.” Greg nods, unlatching his seatbelt. “Go ahead. I’ll meet you inside. Takes a minute to get the seat open for Theo with this rental contraption.”

“Alright.” Niall nods, barely managing to get out of the car before Conan barrels into the front seat and past him to escape Theo’s grabby little fingers, which Niall notes are clutched around a tuft of brown fur. “You don’t have to come in. I shouldn’t be long. I’m just dropping off some clothes for them.”

“I want to meet the friends who would get arrested for you.” Greg says firmly.

“Alright.” Niall shrugs, grabbing his bag and shutting the door so he can head into the station.

Niall finds Ashton right as soon as he walks in, pacing back and forth with a nervous look in his eyes. He flits over to Niall, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then disappears into the back with the bag of clothes that Niall brought. Ever since Christmas, Niall has taken to keeping clothes in Luke’s size in his house, because, left to his own devices, Luke likes to be nude or nearly nude a lot. Louis is easy. Louis wears Niall’s size in pretty much everything, and, unlike Harry, he’ll return it.

“You alright?” Niall asks, glancing over at where Liam is nursing a cup of coffee and reading something on his mobile.

“Not my first time waiting for Lou to come out of the drunk tank.” Liam says with a shrug, not even bothering to look up from what he’s reading. “You remember New Year’s.”

“Ah, yes.” Niall chuckles. “The naked dancing on top of the bar after your midnight kiss.”

“How’s your face?” Liam asks, looking up at him after setting his mobile down.

“I’ve had worse.” Niall says with a snort. “My morning has been a bit topsy-turvy though.”

“Bressie told me you left with Harry.” Liam says, letting nothing show on his face. It’s a shame he doesn’t like poker, because he has a great poker face. “You toss him out on his arse again?”

“No, but that’s not what’s been so weird about it.” Niall admits. “My-”

“Theo, get back here!” Niall hears Greg shout. Conan looks like he’s ready to bolt as the toddler races towards him, but Niall manages to scoop him up first. If Theo were any larger, it would have sent Niall sprawling because of the weight shift, but Horan men are always small for their age.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Niall hums, adjusting a squealing Theo on his hip. “You leave poor Conan some fur to get through the rest of winter, alright?”

“All-rye.” Theo says with a nod.

“Jaysus, he’s fast on them stumpy legs.” Greg pants out, jogging over to Niall. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“I have one leg, and I could outrun you.” Niall snorts. “It’s all that red meat you eat. Makes you slow and fat.”

“Better than picking at fruits and nuts like a bird.” Greg huffs. “We’re biologically inclined to be omnivores.”

“Now, where did you learn big words like that?” Niall grins. “Someone has been reading for once.”

“Um, what’s going on here?” someone asks to Niall’s right. He looks over to find Louis, Ashton and Luke all staring at them confusedly. Louis speaks again to ask, “Niall, did you have a kid? How long was I in jail?”

“Like- Twelve hours, Tommo.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s not mine. He’s my nephew.”

“Oh.” Louis breathes out, eyes going wide. “So, this is-”

“Everyone, meet my brother, Greg.” Niall tells them. “Greg, this is my therapist, Louis. Next to him is Ashton, who used to be an escort I slept with. And next to Ash is his boyfriend, who’s also sometimes his girlfriend.”

“Thank god he’s your brother.” Luke giggles. “I thought you’d lost your mind, picking this bloke over Harry. Makes no sense.”

“He’s a little bit of a bitch, whether he’s a boy or a girl.” Niall chuckles, looking over towards Greg. “So- Still want to be a part of my life?”

“Yes.” Greg rolls his eyes. “Which two are the ones who beat that guy up?”

“Louis and Luke.” Niall explains. “I think. All I have to go on is what Harry told me. I was too busy trying to kill someone in my PTSD episode to pay any attention, and he was trying to keep Conan from attacking the guy, so the information may not all be there.”

“So why didn’t you jump him too?” Greg asks Ashton.

“Liam was holding me back.” Ashton grumbles, glaring over at Liam, who doesn’t look apologetic in the slightest. “I got in his face first, and Liam pulled me away. Then he called Niall a pathetic little cripple and a basket case, and Louis and Luke were on top of him in a second.”

“Only I get to call Niall a basket case.” Louis huffs, rubbing over his bandaged knuckles. “It’s my right as his therapist.”

“You’ve got yourself quite the interesting little family here, Niall.” Greg says with a soft smile. “I bet Bobby would have liked this bunch.”

“You’re not the only one to tell me that.” Niall says quietly, watching Ashton put his own jacket over Luke’s shoulder and press a kiss to the shiny black eye he’s sporting, while Louis just goes over and starts having a whispered argument with Liam. “Da always did like the misfits and weirdos and broken people. He said that they were the strongest ones of all. ‘A diamond in the rough is more valuable than cubic zirconia any day.’”

“You-” Louis says, stepping over so that he’s in front of Greg while Liam groans. “Not-Niall, how long are you in town?”

“It’s Greg, and I’m leaving the morning of the sixteenth.” Greg answers.

“Damn.” Louis sighs. “Not enough time to rearrange things and squeeze you into one of Niall’s sessions. Dinner, then. Niall will host on the fifteenth.”

“Um- What?” Niall asks incredulously.

“You never rescinded my full control of your therapy.” Louis says with a shrug. “And it’s too late now, because I’ve already decided. We’ll all be there. You cook, I dig into your family history, then we have desert and it’s over. No arguments. My decisions are final. You know there’s no point in fighting. Ashton? Luke?”

“We’re free.” Luke nods, scratching at Conan’s head where the lab has retreated behind his legs to put some distance between himself and Theo, who’s eyeing him up again.

“Perfect.” Louis smirks. “I’ll call the big one, and we’ll all be there at five. Thanks for the kit, Horan. See you on the fifteenth.”

“I’m doing vegetarian!” Niall calls after him as Louis practically sprints out of the station so that Niall can’t fight him on this.

“Where to next, then?” Greg asks after the rest of them filter out as well after giving Niall kisses on the cheek.

“I have a suggestion, but I don’t want you to get mad at me for it.” Niall sighs.

 

“This is where they buried him?” Greg asks weakly. “Not even a gravestone?”

“Once I started making more money, I commissioned one, but it’s taking a while.” Niall explains, looking down at the plaque that has Bobby’s name and life span on it. “Since you and Maura didn’t want anything to do with his funeral, and I was still captive in Syria, this is where they buried him. I’m working on getting him moved, too. But exhumation and reburial takes time and a lot of paperwork, and there’s no point to it until I have the headstone.”

“How can you stand seeing him like this?” Greg asks. “If- If it were mum-”

“This is only the second time I’ve been here.” Niall admits. “I’ve tried to make myself come here, but it breaks my fucking heart.”

“But- All the flowers.” Greg whispers.

“Fans of his.” Niall tells him. “People who worked with LiveWell, or people who were helped by it. People who saw or aided or benefitted from all the good he did. Da helped change the world. People admired him. The only reason he was even buried instead of cremated was because a petition went around on the day that the article about his death and my disappearance and probable death was announced, and fifteen thousand people signed it, asking for them to bury him so that people could visit his grave.”

“I never knew.” Greg says quietly. “I just- I hated him for so long. I never knew so many people loved him like this.”

“Well, we did.” Niall says, shaking his head. “He made the world a better place, Greg. He helped millions over the last two decades. He was nominated three times for the Nobel Peace Prize. He got to meet Barack Obama, and had lunch with the last three prime ministers, and was honored all over the world before and after his death. I don’t know why you hate him, but I do know that he didn’t deserve to be hated.”

“He never fought for me, Niall.” Greg sighs. “Mum just packed my things, and told him she was taking me back to Ireland, and he didn’t fight it. Not for a minute. You were just a baby, but I was seven. I remember all of it.”

“Neither of them could afford both of us, Greg.” Niall says gently. “Not back then. You know that. It took him years to make enough to properly support just the two of us. We lived in tiny little flats with leaking roofs, and walked everywhere, and got our clothes from charity shops.”

“It’s not about the money.” Greg says. “I understand that. But- But he didn’t even try, Niall. Not even a little bit. He just told her that he understood, gave me a kiss and said he’d miss me, and let us walk away without so much as a single word of argument. And that broke mum’s heart. She always said she wouldn’t have left if he’d just tried to get her to stay. She wanted him to fight for her, and for us.”

“‘Sometimes love means knowing when to let go of someone for their own sake. Sometimes the best thing you can do for a person you love is to let them go and find happiness that you can’t give them.’” Niall quotes Bobby, stroking over the ring on his finger. “That’s what he said to me the last time I ever saw him in person. He wanted you guys to be happy, but he also had to be true to himself and his mission. What Maura said, and the reality was, may be two different things.

“Even if he had fought for you guys, he wasn’t going to give up on LiveWell. The same result would have happened eventually. He was hurting you, but he couldn’t stop, because there was a bigger picture. He was never going to be able to give you both what you wanted, so he hoped that you’d be able to find other ways to be happy instead.”

“I would have been happy just having a father who made an effort to be a part of my life for more than a fortnight a year.” Greg mutters. “One who didn’t think that buying me things replaced him being there for me.”

“Do you remember when that game system came out, and you wanted it so badly? The A-box or whatever?” Niall asks.

“X-Box, and yes.” Greg nods.

“Da only ate one meal, every other day, when he was saving up to buy that for you.” Niall tells him. “I remember, because we were living in this tiny, rundown flat where the door didn’t lock, and he kept it under the bed when we were home, and took it everywhere when we weren’t. Just carried it under his arm. He was so scared that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you wanted, so he did everything possible to make sure he could.”

“Why didn’t he just ship it to mum and have her keep it for me?” Greg questions.

“Because, when he bought you your Gameboy, that’s what he did. Then she gave it to you and said it was from her.” Niall mutters. “Da may not have been around for you as much as either of you wanted, because he really did want to spend more time with you, but at least he never tried to manipulate you. He loved Maura, and he respected her, no matter how many blows she dealt him. Even at the end, he wouldn’t let me say anything bad about her. Maybe buying you things wasn’t the best way to go about it, but, by the time he had enough money to do things like spend more time with you, you had already decided you didn’t want anything to do with him unless it was money.”

“That’s not fair.” Greg huffs.

“Life’s not fair, Greg.” Niall replies. “If it was, Da would still be alive, because he was a good fucking person. He loved you. That’s all there is to it. And the only way you would even interact with him is if you wanted something, so he always did it. He paid for your flat for uni, and your clothes, and your car. He paid for your wedding and your house. He paid for anything you needed, and gave you money whenever you wanted it with no questions asked, because that was the only way that you would spend even a second talking to him from the time you were fifteen.

“I understand that you have your issues with him, and they’re fair. They are. I’m not trying to take that away from you. But you took Maura’s side, Greg. You took her side, the same way I took his. You cut off contact. You decided you didn’t want to see him anymore. He tried as best as he could, even if it wasn’t enough.”

“Niall-” Greg says quietly.

“Did you even try?” Niall asks him. “Did you ever even think about going on a trip with LiveWell? Did it ever occur to you to see what he was doing that kept him from being as much of a father to you as he could have been?”

“No.” Greg admits.

“Sorry.” Niall sighs. “I shouldn’t be pushing this so hard. It’s not like I ever took time to see things from the perspective of you or mum.”

“She has early-onset Alzheimer’s.” Greg whispers. “Denise and I had to put her in a home, because Chris left her when it started happening. She’s said some things since then that made me realize that, for a long time, she was pitting me against Bobby. Because he really hurt her, and she wanted to hurt him back by taking me away from him.”

“She already did that once.” Niall growls.

“Niall, have you ever been in a significant relationship?” Greg asks. “Like- Like considering marriage?”

“Not yet.” Niall admits. “But me and Harry are heading in that direction, I hope.”

“Then you don’t know what it’s like to be abandoned by the person you love more than anything.” Greg says gently, looking out at where Theo is chasing Conan through the grass. “Last year, I got drunk before I had to take Theo to a doctor’s appointment. I crashed the car into a pole, and she left me and took Theo. That was my rock bottom. That was what made me reevaluate everything. I’ve fought for everything since then, but, when she walked out of my hospital room with him, and said she wasn’t coming back until I got help, it broke me. He left her for LiveWell before she ever left him, and, even if it was the right thing in the end, it hurt her. Mum didn’t react well, but she was broken too.”

“I’m not going to see her.” Niall mutters.

“I don’t expect you too.” Greg nods. “But, it would be good for you to at least try to understand her. The woman she became wasn’t always the best, but she did her best too. She worked two jobs to keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach. She held me when I cried because I missed Bobby, and she taught me right from wrong. She isn’t a monster. She’s just a woman who had to find a new path in life after the man she loved stopped fighting for her. Maybe she wasn’t good to you, but she was to me, and I know she’s regretted at least some of what she’s said to you.”

“Do you need money for the home?” Niall asks with a sigh.

“No.” Greg says firmly, shaking his head. “We sold her house, and that’s how we’re paying for it. But it’s my job now to take care of her, the same way she took care of me. It’s not yours. She never took care of you, and I know that.”

“I used to love her, you know.” Niall admits. “Even after she rejected me when I came out. It was the first time anyone ever broke my heart. But what she’s said and done since Syria- That’s not forgivable. Not to me.”

“What about me?” Greg asks.

“I’ll work on it.” Niall says with a soft smile. “Because at least you’re willing to try, so I will too.”

 

“Niall?” Harry calls out as Niall’s door opens up.

“In here.” Niall says loudly for him from the kitchen.

“Where’s Greg?” Harry asks, looking around cautiously. “Do I need to drive you to dump the body?”

“He’s out with Denise.” Niall chuckles. “They’re on a bus tour, I think. Neither of them have ever been to London as adults, so they want to see it while they’re here. Especially with tomorrow being Valentine’s day and all that.”

“Is it?” Harry asks. “I hadn’t even noticed.”

“You didn’t realize that our anniversary would be the day before Valentine’s Day?” Niall scoffs. “Some romantic, you are.”

“I’m still waiting to find out we won’t end up having an anniversary.” Harry mumbles, sliding into a stool across the island. “This morning felt like a dream, and I keep waiting to wake up.”

“I can pinch you again.” Niall smirks. “Because I can assure you that this isn’t a dream. Theo bopped me in the nose earlier, and that made me sure of it.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry snorts. “You okay?”

“I am now that you’re here.” Niall hums.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Niall?” Harry chuckles.

“Okay, that’s two cracks.” Niall huffs. “One more, and you don’t get any tacos. You’re making me nervous. Are you having second-”

“No!” Harry says before Niall can even finish the question. “No, of course not.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Niall asks. “Because it’s written all over your face that something isn’t okay.”

“It’s work.” Harry waves him off. “But I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about us. Practically bitten my nails until they bled waiting all day for this conversation.”

“Despite our history, you’ve got no reason to be so nervous, love.” Niall says gently. “I know I haven’t given you any reason to think I wouldn’t flip around and sprint in the other direction, but I’m not. I’m right here. I didn’t change the locks on my door, or book a plane ticket, or anything else. I’m right here.”

“Just- There was this part of me all day that worried you wouldn’t be here when I got back.” Harry admits quietly. “That you’d have left again, like when I came here after last time, and all of your clothes and Conan’s things were gone, and- And I basically sped the whole way back just so I could get here before you could leave.”

“It didn’t occur to you to call me instead of risking life and limb with your already tenuous grasp on how to drive?” Niall chuckles.

“I drive perfectly well, thank you.” Harry huffs. “And, no, because you didn’t answer my calls last time. You never answer my calls when you’re avoiding me, so, if you hadn’t answered, for whatever reason, it would have just made me panic more.”

“You know, you could have asked me to text you updates or something.” Niall tells him. “If it made you that nervous, you could have asked for something that would have made it easier.”

“Didn’t want to risk scaring you off by being clingy.” Harry mumbles.

“Idiot.” Niall says with a fond smile. “Absolute stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey.” Harry pouts.

“It is.” Niall says with a shrug. “Have you actually listened to anything I’ve said to you since last night?”

“Yes, but-” Harry starts.

“No ‘but’s.” Niall cuts him off, echoing Harry’s words from earlier. “If you’d been listening, you’d know that I’m not going anywhere. There’s a difference between hearing what I’ve said, and listening to it. So I need you to shut that bloody fantastic gob of yours, turn off the playlist of doubt that’s on a loop in your head, and listen to what I have to say now.”

Harry starts to open his mouth, but Niall holds a hand out and quickly says, “I love you. I’ve been shite at showing it, and I’ve made some decisions along the way that haven’t been so great for either of us. I know that. But I also know that I do love you, and, if you’re still willing to try, then I want to give this a shot. It’s obvious that me trying to keep us apart to keep you safe and happy wasn’t working that well, so I’m done trying to go that route. If the way to make you happy is to be together, then I want to try, because, truth be told, it’s all I want too.”

“Why couldn’t you have figured this all out months ago?” Harry asks with a weak smile and watery eyes.

“Because, months ago, I was in pretty much the darkest place I’ve ever been.” Niall admits. “I didn’t understand how someone like you could love someone like me. I still don’t, really, but- But the why doesn’t really matter. I know that now. All that matters is that you do, and I love you too, and I don’t want to keep hurting you. And I want to keep trying to make myself into someone who deserves you. It’s not going to happen overnight, and you’re going to have to put up with a lot, but I’m working on myself. I’m going to be better for you, if you give me a chance again.”

“I don’t need you to be anything different than who you are.” Harry murmurs.

“But I do.” Niall tells him. “Because who I am is prone to making rash, unilateral decisions. Who I am is still angry and scared, even though I’ve been working on it. Who I am isn’t who I want to be yet. I’m not like you. I haven’t gotten to the point where I’ve accepted my past and let go of it, and that’s going to take some more time.”

“As long as I get to be with you for that time, then that’s fine by me.” Harry smiles.

“And after, hopefully.” Niall says gently. “Now that we’ve got that settled, come over here and give me a kiss before we eat a bunch of guacamole. We’ve got a lot of kissing to make up for, and I need to start paying my debt.”

“I expect interest.” Harry hums, crossing around the island so fast that it startles Conan awake over in the corner.

Niall barely has time to register that, though, before Harry is crowding against him and going for the gold in the snogging Olympics. Niall just takes a second to giggle and sigh contentedly into it before he gives himself over completely.


	38. Chapter 38

“Okay, we can get back together now.” Harry purrs, nuzzling his face into Niall’s neck. Apparently he doesn’t care about the sweat drenching their bodies, or the fact that he hasn’t even pulled out yet. Niall can’t say that he does either.

“What?” Niall questions.

“Yeah, I broke up with you in my head, but it’s after midnight now, so we can get back together now.” Harry chuckles.

“What the fuck?” Niall grunts out, lifting himself back up off of Harry’s chest to glare down at him. “You broke up with me in your head?”

“Well, we couldn’t have our anniversary be the day before Valentine’s Day.” Harry says with a shrug. “Because then one or the other would always end up getting overshadowed. This way, we only have one day to remember, and there’s no risk of one being better than the other.”

“You don’t trust me to make two perfectly good days in a row for a few years?” Niall huffs. “Think that’s beyond me?”

“Well, I’m hoping it’ll be more than just a few years.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “A few decades is more what I had in mind.”

“Well, obviously we wouldn’t get married on February thirteenth.” Niall scoffs. “I’m not a total idiot. It would just be the anniversaries between now and then.”

“You want to marry me?” Harry asks, all sense of humor drained from his voice and his eyes blown wide.

“Not right now I don’t.” Niall grumbles. “You’d just divorce me in your head.”

“Niall, I’m being serious.” Harry whispers, pushing himself up on his arms and nearly making Niall’s eyes roll into the back of his head when the brunet’s cock moves inside him again.

“Yes.” Niall breathes out, pawing at Harry’s chest. “Someday, I’d like to move our rings over to our left hands. But, first, I think we should try dating for more than twenty-four hours without you breaking up with me, or assuming I’m going to break up with you.”

“That-” Harry growls out, gripping Niall’s hips and rolling them both over so that Niall is underneath him. He gives a short, sharp thrust that makes Niall moan pornographically into his shoulder. “Is the sexiest fucking thing you have ever said.”

 

“Stop it.” Niall mumbles, smacking at the hand Harry is trailing down his stomach only a minute after he’s woken the blond up. “Too tired. Weren’t the four times last night enough for you?”

“Of course.” Harry says with a raspy chuckle. “But I like how you get all cuddly and affectionate after I make you cum.”

“I love you.” Niall mutters, rolling over and burying his face in Harry’s neck. “Stop trying to touch my dick. It needs a rest. It’ll fall off if you keep at it this way.”

“That your limit then?” Harry hums. “Four times in a night? Ashton had it easy.”

“Do you really want to have that conversation?” Niall asks flatly, pulling back to look Harry in the eyes. “About how many times Ashton has gotten me off, I mean? Because I don’t think you do.”

“Not until I’ve passed that number.” Harry huffs.

“Well, you’re at six times so far, so it’s going to be a while.” Niall shrugs.

“Okay, the subject needs to change now.” Harry sighs.

“You brought it up.” Niall points out.

“I was joking.” Harry hisses. “I don’t want to think about how many times he’s had his hands all over you and made you feel like I do.”

“Ashton never made me feel like you do.” Niall says gently, running his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip to quell the pout forming there. “He was the exact opposite. What happened with Ash- It was just to sublimate the things you made me feel. The attraction, the love, the guilt- Ashton gave me a safe place to let go of all of that and focus on nothing but mindless pleasure and release. The only thing I’ve ever felt for Ashton is friendly affection.”

“I still don’t like it.” Harry mutters, tightening his arms around Niall’s waist.

“You have nothing to worry about.” Niall chuckles. “I mean, yeah- He’s insanely fit, and fantastic in bed, but he’s no you. He’s just my best mate who I used to have sex with.”

“You are terrible at this boyfriend thing.” Harry sighs. “No good at allaying my fears at all.”

“Yeah, well you mentally broke up with me because you didn’t like our anniversary, and then proceeded to fuck me anyways without even telling me, so I think we’re pretty even.” Niall counters. “Since the beginning of the relationship, that is. I’m still way behind from before, but I’m not counting that right now.”

“You brought us level the moment you said you love me for the first time.” Harry whispers, pressing a kiss between Niall’s eyebrows. “Took every bit of weight off of my shoulders with those words.”

“Wasn’t the first time.” Niall tells him. “First time I said it was to Louis, about an hour after I left the hotel that morning, when I asked him to take me back on.”

“Wait-” Harry sighs. “You went from sleeping with me, to begging Louis to take you back, on the same day?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that night was kind of my rock bottom.”

“Is there a right way to take that?” Harry scoffs.

“Just- Just that I knew then that I was too messed up to keep trying to do everything on my own.” Niall explains. “Hurting you like that- It was one of the worst things I’ve ever done, and I couldn’t keep letting myself spiral out of control. I was like a car with no brakes, and I was doing damage to everyone, but most especially you, and I needed Louis to stop the car, because I couldn’t do it myself.”

“I still don’t like you referring to the first time we made love as your ‘rock bottom’.” Harry pouts.

“Would you prefer I refer to it as you ‘rocking my bottom’?” Niall snorts.

“Oh my god-” Harry giggles. “I really have rubbed off on you.”

“Not yet, but I can feel your dick on my thigh, so I know you’re probably going to do it soon enough.” Niall hums.

“Nah. It’s no fun if I’m not getting you off too.” Harry says with a shrug.

“Well, have at it then.” Niall laughs. “I suppose it’ll stay attached for one more go.”

 

“That’s your third cup of coffee since we’ve been here. Are you alright?” Harry asks gently.

“Just haven’t been getting much sleep with you fucking me into the mattress all night, and waking up a few hours later.” Niall says with a shrug, taking a drink of his coffee. “My greatest regret is falling for a morning person.”

“You miss so much of the day if you sleep until noon.” Harry argues, cutting his pancakes with his fork.

“I’m technically unemployed.” Niall points out. “I get to sleep whenever I want.”

“Well, I’m not.” Harry shrugs. “I have through the weekend off, but one of us has to bring home the bacon.”

“Excuse you, I’m worth almost a million pounds without getting anything from you.” Niall huffs. “And, since LiveWell is dead, there’s nothing to do with that money except live off of it. I think I can be jobless for a little bit.”

“You live in London.” Harry chuckles. “That could be your food bill in a month. One of many good things about Oxford, it has a lower cost of living.”

“You trying to drop a hint, Styles?” Niall snorts.

“Just- If you’re not going back to work for Bressie, then you don’t really have any reason to stay near the city, do you?” Harry asks.

“There’s Louis and Liam and Bressie and Luke and Ash.” Niall points out. “And it’s kind of where my house is.”

“I have a house.” Harry says quietly. “And, if you lived there, it wouldn’t mean a two hour commute just to see each other.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit fast to be moving in together?” Niall questions. “You dumped me less than twelve hours ago before you took me back. And, even if we ignore that tidbit, we’ve still only been together for a day.”

“But we’ve been in love for a lot longer than that, and we already know that we can cohabitate.” Harry argues.

“Because that went so well last time.” Niall snorts.

“Fine.” Harry mutters. “Sorry. You’re right. It’s too soon. I just- I was there when you were talking to your realtor yesterday, and you didn’t tell her you weren’t selling your house. You just said that you’d reschedule.”

“Because I am still selling the house.” Niall nods. “It’s too much for me anymore. The memories are just too much for me to keep staying there every day now that I’ve let LiveWell go.”

“So, you’re going to stay with Louis again then?” Harry asks. “Please don’t say Ashton.”

“I was thinking about getting a flat, actually.” Niall admits. “Can’t stay with Louis, because his place smells like feet. And Ash and Luke have only just started their relationship, so it’s hard enough to get them to keep their hands off of each other in public places, let alone at their place. Bressie has a third floor walkup, so that’s out. And Liam is giving up his flat next month, because he’s moving in with Lou.”

“So you’re going to get another place in the city.” Harry says quietly, picking at his food without really eating it.

“Unless something better comes up.” Niall hums. “You heard of anything?”

“What?” Harry asks, whipping his head up. “But- But you said-”

“I said it was soon.” Niall shrugs. “And I said that it might not be the smartest thing we’ve ever done. I didn’t, however, say no.”

“So- So you’ll-” Harry stammers.

“I should probably, you know, see the place first.” Niall tells him. “You’ve never had me to yours. Not even before my birthday.”

“It just, um-” Harry sighs. “It can get a bit messy, and you’re so anal about things being clean, so-”

“You’re a slob.” Niall snorts. “I already knew that. I’ve seen your place in about a thousand pictures, remember?”

“You weren’t supposed to notice.” Harry says, his face lighting up to a bright red. “I never just sent you pictures of my mess.”

“No, but when you send me a picture of your boots, and the coffee table right behind them is covered in rubbish, it’s hard not to notice that.” Niall chuckles. “I accepted that part of you a long time ago. You’re cluttered, and kind of messy, and you stubbornly refuse to let go of things that matter to you, even when it might be for the best. If that weren’t the case, we probably wouldn’t be together. I can handle you being a packrat. You’ve handled much worse from me. Besides, what’s a little mess?”

 

“This is not a little mess.” Niall breathes out. “What is wrong with you? Are you some rubbish collecting alien?”

“Hey!” Harry whines, drawing it out until his lungs run out of air and he can only pout.

“Sorry. I just- Even the pictures didn’t do this justice.” Niall mutters, surveying the mess that covers at least eighty percent of the room Niall is standing in. 

Conan seems completely unbothered by it, just padding across the room and pushing what appears to be a pile of used tissues off of the couch with his nose before settling down on it and closing his eyes. Niall, on the other hand, is afraid to close his eyes because he’s nearly positive he saw something move in the terrifyingly uniform army of diet coke cans on the end table.

“I’ve been worse about it than usual.” Harry mumbles. “Whenever I’ve been home, I just- I would shut down so that I didn’t think too much about what yesterday was going to be like.”

“Well, I can’t say that this is how I saw today going either.” Niall chuckles, sliding his hand into Harry’s. “But it’s better than having a breakdown on Louis’ couch because I miss you so much.”

“Or me on Gemma’s.” Harry nods. “Not a very romantic way to spend Valentine’s Day, though.”

“You don’t think?” Niall hums, tugging Harry against himself. “Because I do. We’re getting your place ready for me to move in. We’ll take care of this, and then we’ll go back to the city, and I’ll take you out to dinner, and then we’ll go back to mine and pack some of my things to bring here to start moving me in with you. What could be more romantic than that?”

“I like the way you think.” Harry giggles, pressing his lips against Niall’s and tightening his grip on the blond’s hips.

“No time for snogging.” Niall tells him with a quick peck on the lips. “I need you to get me a box of bin bags, a bucket, some soap, a lemon, and a sponge. You’re going to start with the rubbish, and I’m going to get the floors and the walls.”

“Who washes their walls?” Harry asks confusedly.

“Oh my god.” Niall grunts out. “I have so much work to do with you.”

 

“You rented a skip?” Harry asks, looking as the men unload the large yellow bin from the back of the lorry and put it in his drive.

“I did.” Niall nods.

“Aren’t you overdoing it?” Harry questions.

“Well, considering the fact you’ve already filled your bins, and we’ve only done two rooms, I don’t think so, no.” Niall huffs, pulling out a wad of bills and passing it to one of the men. “I’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to your mess. I may be okay with spending today cleaning this place, but I’d rather not have you running back and forth to the dump all day. It’ll make the car smell for the entire ride back to Windsor, and I don’t think either of us wants to deal with that. Or the possible mess all over your car.”

“Okay, fair point.” Harry snorts.

“Do you mind moving the rubbish into the skip while I head back in and get started on the next room?” Niall asks.

“Not at all.” Harry shakes his head, leaning in to press a quick peck to Niall’s cheek before heading over to the bins with Conan by his side.

Niall just heads back in, climbing the stairs to get into Harry’s front door.

He’s in the kitchen when he hears something rattle, and then Harry yelp, but that’s not what concerns him. He knows what Harry sounds like when he hurts himself, rather than just doing something that startles him. It’s the fact that he’s on the other side of the house. It’s the fact that Niall heard the bottle hit the ground so fucking clearly, like it was happening right next to him.

He drops the bag he was using to gather the recyclables, and trades it for a pad that Harry keeps on the fridge for groceries. He tears off the front page, which just consists of the words ‘kale’, ‘bananas’ and ‘wine’, all written in capital letters and underlined several times each. On the fresh page, he writes ‘call to have soundproofing windows installed through house.’

But then another thought hits him, and he scribbles down ‘buy portable ramp for front stairs for wheelchair days’.

He knows that that’s not all that’s going to have to be modified though. Harry’s house isn’t set up for someone like Niall. At the very least, doorways are going to have to be widened, and the wall attached to the house next door is all going to have to be insulated. Niall can handle the stairs, narrow as they are. He can scoot up those when Bobby is in repairs, even though he won’t be able to use his spare prosthetic. He really need to just buy one with a free-swinging knee joint.

Harry finds him in the bathroom attached to the bedroom, wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist from behind and mumbling, “Thought you were going to start on the kitchen. Did it gross you out so much you needed a shower?”

“Couldn’t take one in here anyways.” Niall mutters, adding ‘install shower bar’ to his list. “It’s not accessible for me, and it’s too small for the both of us.”

“Want to test that theory?” Harry purrs in Niall’s ear.

“We should wait to shower until after we’ve finished cleaning.” Niall snorts, dropping the pad on the counter. “Get all the grime off of us.”

“Well, I’ve got a bed in the other room, if you want to go that route.” Harry smirks.

“Where?” Niall scoffs. “Under the massive pile of clothes?”

“I get it.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m messy.”

“That’s alright.” Niall hums, turning in Harry’s arms to wrap his arms around the brunet’s neck. “I love you anyways.”

The list stays on the counter as they stumble into Harry’s bedroom. Niall has other things on his mind at the moment that are far more important.

 

“So-” Harry says quietly, twirling the pasta around his fork at the fancy place Niall was able to get them into through a clever use of Olly Murs’ connections. “What were you writing back at the house?”

“A list of modifications that’ll have to be done before I can fully move in.” Niall explains. “But we’ve got time. We haven’t got to talk about those tonight.”

“What kind of modifications?” Harry questions.

“Mostly soundproofing.” Niall tells him. “The windows will need to be replaced with dampener glass, but I know a guy who will do it so that they match the windows you already have on. Then the walls on the side of the house that’s attached will need to be opened up and reinsulated to block the noise when I have episodes or have to play music to drown out storms.”

“You want to tear down my walls?” Harry asks incredulously.

“Not all of them.” Niall sighs. “Just the ones abutting the house next door, and the ones with narrow entries will have to be widened, because I can’t fit through them in my wheelchair. If it’s the cost you’re worried about, don’t. I’ll pay for the renovations.”

“But where am I supposed to live during those renovations?” Harry asks. “This sounds like a lengthy process.”

“The windows will only take a day to check out, and another to fit.” Niall shrugs. “Maybe one more if you want to do the garden room. I figured you’d probably rather just have a new door installed on that, though. And the walls will take a week or two, and then we’ll have to repaint, but you can stay at mine during that time. I can’t fully move in right away anyways. I have to stay in London to work on Olly’s album per our arrangement, unless you’ve got a studio set up in the house that I didn’t see. Plus, I’m still in therapy with Louis twice a week, and group one day a week.”

“That’s a lot of work, Niall.” Harry mumbles.

“You asked me to move in, Harry.” Niall points out. “If I’m going to live with you, then the house needs to be accessible for me. I’m trying to be as noninvasive as I can, but there are things we’ll need to do in order to make it possible for me to live there. I can make do with a portable ramp for the front stairs for my wheelchair instead of a permanent one, and I’m not talking about having a lift-chair installed for the staircase or anything. But the walls and the windows have to be fixed, along with putting a bar into the shower, and getting a new tub with a door, because I can’t step over that lip.”

“This is a bad idea, isn’t it?” Harry asks softly, laying his fork down on his plate. “You moving in with me like this.”

“I didn’t think so, but, if you do-” Niall mumbles.

“No!” Harry rushes out. “Not the idea of us living together. I’m on board with that. I meant the part where we move into my place. You’re talking about a hundred-thousand pounds in renovations just to make it possible for you to live in the house. Why would we do that?”

“Because I still have to sell my house.” Niall argues. “Harry- I can’t keep living there. Not anymore. A few months, maybe, but not forever.”

“That’s not what I mean either.” Harry says, shaking his head. “Your place is your place. It’s where you have all these memories with your father. And my place is the place I bought because I didn’t want to be who I was before. Those houses don’t suit who we are anymore. We need somewhere new. Somewhere where we can start fresh, as who we are now. Together.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out. “You want to buy a new place.”

“I want us to buy a new place.” Harry says, stressing the word ‘us’. “Somewhere that’s a fit for both of us.”

“When would we start looking?” Niall asks.

“Ideally, sometime in the next few days.” Harry says with a soft smile. “You know, before we spend a hundred grand renovating a house that we wouldn’t even live in for very long.”

“Fair point.” Niall nods.

“So- Where do we live in the meantime?” Harry asks.

“I have to stay in the city for at least a few days a week.” Niall tells him. “For my sessions, and for Olly.”

“Well, with my current position, I can make my own hours, for the most part.” Harry shrugs. “I’ll have to report in to Simon pretty regularly. Bring in the cheques and all that. I have to show him I’m making progress on things until we get the rest of the money for the center.”

“What are you talking about?” Niall asks, dropping his fork. “We raised the money for the center.”

“Not really.” Harry mutters. “Between your cut of fifteen percent, and Simon’s cut of twenty-five, we’re only at three-million quid now.”

“Since when does-” Niall roars, calming himself by gripping onto the table when he realizes that people are staring. Between Niall’s nose and Harry’s black eye, they’ve already gotten enough looks tonight. “Since when does Simon make twenty-five percent of what you and I raised? He didn’t do anything to earn that money.”

“That’s what James called me in for yesterday.” Harry sighs. “Simon left the Red Cross- At least, that’s what he told us- and he’s come to work for All Dogs go to Heaven fulltime. He revised his contract with James, and James gave him twenty-five percent to come on. It means we’ll have to wait a while longer to open the new center, but James thinks it’s worth it to have full use of Simon’s expertise.”

“Wait- So- Simon Cowell just made one-and-a-quarter-million quid for signing a contract with you, because he got kicked out of his job?” Niall asks incredulously. “Because a man like Simon Cowell doesn’t quit a cushy job like Head of UK Operations for the Red Cross to work at a charity that needed an expert to bring in five-million in five months. It doesn’t happen. He was removed because he’s a shark.”

“Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter.” Harry shrugs. “Those were the terms of the deal. It’s done. James has already cut his cheque, and the money is his.”

“Harry- He’s not what you guys need.” Niall says quietly. “He’ll never be satisfied with a small operation like All Dogs go to Heaven. It’s too far away from the action. It’s too small time. He needs something big. Something international that will give him the spotlight and power. Something like-”

“Something like what?” Harry asks when Niall doesn’t finish his thought.

“Something like LiveWell.” Niall breathes out.

 

“I’m sorry- You want me to what?” Simon asks haughtily.

“Step down as CEO of All Dogs go to Heaven.” Niall repeats. “Effective immediately.”

“Now, wait just a minute-” James says weakly. “I just paid him over a million pounds.”

“Exactly.” Niall nods. “And did your contract stipulate terms for length of tenure?”

“No, but-” James stammers.

“I bet Simon talked you into that, didn’t he?” Niall questions, cutting him off. “After all, he left the Red Cross and chose to work here. Why would you need to worry? He must be truly invested, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” Simon huffs. “If I wish to lend my expertise to this organization, who are you to disagree with that?”

“Someone who knows you.” Niall says flatly. “Your expertise is wide and varied. You’re a boon to any organization you throw your weight behind. There’s no arguing that.”

“Then what is the point of all this?” Simon asks.

“Your tenures have a history of being- Short lived.” Niall answers. “You’re too aggressive. Your tactics don’t work for a charity that’s fully on its feet. You’re the best there is at working on a project, but you can’t help yourself from trying to take things farther. You’re a perfectionist who’s never satisfied with the rate of growth, and you get booted from your projects. You will run All Dogs go to Heaven into the ground trying to build it up. It’s too small to support the ideas you would heap on it.”

“Hold on.” Simon says gruffly. “I worked with your father. I know that he and I didn’t see eye to eye on everything, but I still can’t believe you’d accuse me of trying to destroy this foundation.”

“I’m not.” Niall says, shaking his head and gripping onto Harry’s hand when the brunet offers his fingers. “I’m making you an offer. You denounce all loyalties to All Dogs go to Heaven. You step down as CEO, but, first, you put Harry on the board of directors.”

“And why would I do that?” Simon asks.

“Because I have a project that’s better suited to someone like you.” Niall says quietly. “I want you to be the CEO of LiveWell.”

“I don’t work for corporations.” Simon scoffs.

“You wouldn’t.” Niall tells him. “You would own the majority of the organization. Sixty-seven percent. I would own the other thirty-three. You pay two-million quid, and LiveWell is yours. You get named CEO, effective as soon as the sale goes through. There would be nobody to kick you out, and you’d have my name to attach to yours, giving the charity legitimacy. I would also work for LiveWell for three months out of the year, flying back and forth between London and New York, where you’ll be based.”

“You would give me LiveWell?” Simon asks, arching a brow and poorly attempting to conceal the intrigue in his voice.

“I can’t do it on my own.” Niall admits. “I don’t have the funds, and I don’t have the expertise to rebuild them. PepsiCo almost destroyed it. They’re ready to sell off the assets piecemeal. You’re the only person I know who could get it back on its feet.”

“You can’t be serious!” James squawks. “Why should I just let you poach my CEO?”

“Because, you get me.” Niall says with a soft smile. “Where Simon is perfect for something like LiveWell, I’m the match to run something like All Dogs go to Heaven. I know how to grow this organization. I know how to build it from the ground up. Literally. And, to make up for poaching him after you’ve paid him, I’ll take no salary for a year, as well as guaranteeing that you’ll have the funds for the center by the end of summer. I’ll even sign a contract with a tenured term that you decide on. One year- Five years- Ten- It doesn’t matter. I’ll sign it.”

“Why?” Simon asks. “You’ve done all you were obligated to for this place. Why would you relinquish your father’s legacy to me, and sign on without pay?”

“Because LiveWell needs someone like you, and this place needs someone like me.” Niall answers. “Because, even if I’m relinquishing his legacy, I know it’s in the hands of someone with the vision to rebuild it, instead of letting it fall into ruin. And I can do what I’ve always been good at. I can help people on the personal level. This is a win for everyone involved.”

“If I remember correctly, you didn’t make a million pounds.” Simon says, leaning back in his chair. “Not quite. How are you going to scrounge up the rest of the money?”

“That’s already been taken care of.” Niall says, looking over at where Harry is smiling brilliantly at him.

They’d agreed on it last night. Harry will loan Niall the quarter-of-a-million pounds that he needs until the sale of the house, at which point Niall will pay him back. It limits what they’re going to be able to spend on their own house now, because Niall insists that they each go in fifty-fifty, but that’s not a concern for him anymore.

All that matters is that they’re all able to walk out of here today for the better.

“And Harry’s appointment to the board?” Simon asks.

“Job security.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “Nobody can just push me out again.”

“Harry will be going back to being a trainer.” Niall adds. “Wasting his talent by just making him a pretty face to earn money is a huge mistake. He’s meant to be training and helping people. Fund-raising will primarily be my concern, from now on.”

“With help from me when he needs my pretty face.” Harry grins.

“I’ll leave the decision to you, James.” Simon hums. “It rests on you to decide. It’s your organization that will be most affected, after all.”

 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks quietly, slipping onto the couch beside Niall. “I thought you’d be celebrating before everyone packed on over here.”

“Don’t really feel much like celebrating.” Niall says quietly, staring down at the dark screen of his mobile. “I just- I have something to show you. I meant to show it to you yesterday, but- But I got so caught up in everything that I didn’t.”

“Oh god.” Harry breathes out. “What is it?”

“It’s an audio recording of one of my sessions.” Niall explains, opening up his mobile and pulling up the file. He finds it without even really looking, his fingers familiar with the route to it by now after listening to it so many times in the past few weeks to keep himself strong. Not that it worked. “Louis had me do this exercise where I talked to this doll as if it were you, and told you the things that I needed to say, but couldn’t with the real you. And it’s nothing bad, but- But I need you to listen to it. I need you to hear the things I should have told you.”

“Well, come on then.” Harry murmurs, guiding his hand over Niall’s. “Let’s give it a listen so you can relax. I hate seeing you this tense. Makes me think something’s wrong.”

“No.” Niall says gently. “Not anymore. I just need to be open with you about all of it, and that starts with this.”

“Alright.” Harry nods, pressing down with his thumb on Niall’s and starting to play the recording.

“This is fucking weird. This whole fucking thing is weird, and pointless, and I’m not sure what it’s really supposed to accomplish. What the fuck am I supposed to get out of talking to a doll? Not that it’s much different, these days. From the real you, I mean. You’ve barely talked to me lately.

“I don’t really get it, if I’m being honest. You were so fucking insistent for so long, and, in the last fortnight or so, you’ve just stopped. Every time we’re together, you just shut down. I don’t know if you’re mad at me, or if you’ve just finally let go, or if you’re dating someone and just haven’t told me. I don’t know what’s going on with you, and you won’t tell me. You didn’t even stay mad at me like this after that thing at Christmas.

“And, like- It’s good, in a way, you know? It’s good that you’re not attached to me anymore. It’s good that you’re not trying to be with me. That makes it easier, right? It’ll make it easier for both of us when we finish this bit, and go our separate ways. I just-

“I just wish I knew what it was that’s making you act like that. I wish I knew what I did to make you so withdrawn. Because that’s not you. That’s never been you. Yeah, when we’re alone you can be quiet and soft, but I’d never seen you like this before. It’s like your light has gone out, and that’s not what I ever wanted.

“It’s the opposite, actually. I just wanted to protect you. I can’t help falling in love with you, but I can help what I do with that love, and I choose to protect you from myself. I wanted to keep that light shining as bright as it could, and now maybe I’ve dampened it anyways. And the thought that you might have lost it now, when there’s only a few days left before you’re free of me, is the worst part. And I spend every day hoping and praying that I’m wrong, that you’re only acting like this because you’re over me, or because you’ve found someone else who’s actually worthy of you. Someone who could never hurt you.

“But, as much as I want that for you, it also makes my fucking stomach cramp, because I’m as in love with you as I ever was, once I realized it. There have been so many fucking times I just wanted to say it. So many times I wanted to return those words when you still said them whenever we were alone. So many times I wanted to slip my fingers into yours because you were drumming them on something, which is a terrible fucking tell, by the way.

“I think about that night all the time. Not like- I don’t have fucking wanks to it or anything. I couldn’t if I wanted to, because- Because that night fucking breaks my heart when I think about it. I never should have let you into the room. I never should have let it get that far, because it just made things worse. I was weak. I- I did the same thing that I did with Eoghan.

“I stopped thinking about consequences. I stopped thinking about the future. I just thought about what it would finally be like to let myself feel happy for a minute. With Eoghan, it was like a fucking lightning bolt hit us the second we met. Everything was turned up to ten, and I fell so far, so fast. I got lost in him.

“But, you- Things with you are more intense than they ever were with Eoghan. He never made me crazy like you do. And I fucking love it, is the thing. Being around you feels like I’m jumping out of a plane without a parachute, and- And I know you’d catch me. You would catch me, even though it would leave us both as a fucking smear on the ground.

“And I can’t do that to you. I’ve hurt you. I’ve hurt you so fucking much, so many times, but I’ve been doing everything that I know how in order to protect you from something much worse. Because I am more destructive than anything you’ve ever known. I’m a fucking forest fire. Everything in my life burns when I touch it, and I’ve been setting everything around me on fire for so long, but I’ve been doing my best to keep you from getting caught up in those flames. It’s- It’s not always successful, and I know you’ve got the burns to show it, but I’m letting it take me instead of giving it the chance to consume you.

“What happened to me- It didn’t leave enough of me left to be good for anyone. I’m so fucked up. I’m beyond fucked up. I’m just a fucking useless wreck. And I think that’s what he really wanted, you know? Scar had the chance to kill me, he wanted to kill me, but he wanted me to suffer more before I died. I survived everything he did to me, and he took that as an insult.

“But it wasn’t him who did all this to me, in the end. He took the most swings, but Eoghan is the one that broke me open and let everything pour out. And you have more power over me than Eoghan ever did. It’s fucking terrifying. It scares me more than you can imagine, because it’s been taking everything I have in me not to just give in. I’ve never been able to fight for myself, to take care of myself, but I fought for him, and I’ve been fighting for you too. I’ve been fighting so that you can be happy, because that’s the only thing that really matters to me. And if I need to let the monster loose a little to scare you off, that’s what I have to do, because at least you’ll be safe in the long run.

“Just- Just please don’t let that light be gone, Harry. Please, please, please don’t let it be gone.”

Niall’s sharp intake of breath before the sobs start up rings through the room, and then the door creaks open and the sound of Louis’ feet can be heard as he rushes to Niall’s side and says, “Let it out.”

“I fucking hate this!” and, when Niall said it, he’d only heard it as a broken sob, but it plays through as a scream. A fucking wail that still sends shivers down his spine, because it takes him back to exactly what he was feeling that day when he’d broken down the dam that had been holding it all back.

He turns it off after that. Nothing else important gets said from there. It’s just Niall crying and Louis murmuring.

“Wow.” Harry says quietly, slipping his fingers in between Niall’s. “I don’t think I’ve seen you show that much emotion outside of an episode.”

“It fucking felt like an episode.” Niall admits. “Everything was turned up to eleven. I didn’t think anything was going to come of it, because it seemed so stupid, but, once I started talking, everything just poured out of me and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Is this all of it?” Harry asks.

“There’s not more files, if that’s what you’re asking.” Niall mumbles. “But- But I also want to tell you everything about what happened to me in Syria. From start to finish.”

“Niall-” Harry says quietly.

“I want to.” Niall repeats, looking over at him. “It’s not out of obligation. I just- I want you to know. I need you to know, if you’re okay hearing it.”

“Always.” Harry says firmly, nodding along. “As long as you’re okay talking about it, I’ll always be here to listen.”

“It’s just- If you thought that was a lot-” Niall trails off. “You know some of it, obviously, but there’s a lot that I didn’t tell you, because I don’t want you to see me differently.”

“I won’t.” Harry murmurs. “Niall, you have to know that by now. After everything that’s happened, nothing is going to change how I feel about you.”

“That’s not what I said.” Niall mutters. “I said it’s going to change how you look at me. It’s not just about what happened to me, or even killing that kid. It’s everything. It’s Eoghan, and it’s Scar, and it’s Perrie and Jessie and Jade and Leigh Anne and Josh and Dan and Sandy and Jon. It’s me, and what I did. What I didn’t do. It’s the whole story, with all of its parts. Because Syria wasn’t just one experience. It was thousands. Every moment of it, choices were made, and some of them are things I regret. They’re choices that I’m ashamed of.”

“I know you, Niall.” Harry says gently. “And I know that you made the best choices you could at the time.”

“Really?” Niall asks flatly, rolling his eyes. “After everything I put you through, you’re going to put faith in my decision making abilities?”

“You made the best decisions that you could.” Harry repeats. “You tried to protect me, even if I didn’t need protecting.”

“And I tried to protect them too.” Niall mutters. “At first. When we were first taken, I was the one who managed to keep a level head. I took the lead. And then they came to take Dan. And when they rushed in, I got up off the floor to try and fight them back, but they knocked me out.

“When I came to, Dan was still gone. They’d had him for hours, and the others were losing their minds. Except for Eoghan. He was just holding me in the corner of the cell. And they brought Dan back a little bit after I woke up. But he was dead. They’d beaten him until he was hardly recognizable, slit his throat as a warning for us, and then they left his body in there with us for days. Nine days, because it wasn’t until after my first time meeting Scar that they took him.

“They took us, one by one, because that’s how Scar wanted it. One per day, and he used that day to break us. I was last. He saved me for last. Whatever the others said to him, it intrigued him. He saw me as his challenge, and I did everything I could to live up to that. He’d cut me, and I’d refuse to scream. He’d whip me to get answers, and I’d return it with sarcasm. He’d hold my head in a bucket of piss, and I’d spit it at him. And all of that fighting was a mistake.

“He realized after a few weeks that attacking me wasn’t the way to do things. They could hurt me all they wanted, but I wasn’t breaking, and I wasn’t giving them answers. I was too stubborn to let anything that they did to me give them any power. But Scar figured out my weakness. The others.

“They’d already killed Jade. She was so small, and they put her through too much. But Perrie, Leigh Anne and Jesy were still alive. The girls were the obvious targets to them. They knew I’d try to protect them. So they cuffed my hands behind my back, attached me to the wall, and made me watch as they brought them in and- And they raped them, one after another, right in front of me.

“These scars on the top of my wrists are where the cuffs bit into my hands as I fought against the cuffs. And Scar- He didn’t touch them. He just watched me scream and fight and bleed while his men did what they did, until one got tired of me and knocked me out with his gun.

“Scar made sure none of his men ever did anything to me beyond that. They could do what they wanted to the others, but the only way they laid hands on me was with his permission, and only to the limits he set for them. Scar still had his sessions with me, trying to get me to confess to something that I didn’t know, but my real torture became watching the things that his twisted mind came up with to do to the others. 

“It was watching them do that to the girls. It was watching them literally disembowel Josh. It was watching Sandy get every bone in his hands and feet broken, one by one. It was watching them attach Eoghan to- To a car battery until he literally died. But they brought him back. Scar was a doctor or a medic or something, because he knew exactly what to do. And he revived Eoghan just to keep the strongest piece he had against me.

“It was Eoghan that did it in the end. It was seeing him like that- Still and not breathing- That broke me. It made me stop fighting. I gave Scar the screams. I stopped talking back. I stopped fighting when they’d come to take one of us. Perrie was the last one left with us at the end, and- And when they came for her, I didn’t do anything. I was relieved. I was relieved, because it wasn’t Eoghan or me.

“It was only after they took Perrie that I tried to fight again. That’s when I came up with my escape plan. That’s when I sat for six days, sharpening a broken piece of metal with the floor, so that I could kill someone. And I didn’t care. I didn’t care, because I was willing to bear any sin for him. I was willing to take a life if it meant saving Eoghan, but I didn’t fight that hard for the others. I never tried that hard for them.”

“Yes you did, Niall.” Harry murmurs, pulling Niall to his chest. 

“I didn’t.” Niall mumbles, burying his face in Harry’s neck and breathing in the scent of cologne and sweat and HarryHarryHarry that keeps him from tearing up too much to finish. “I fought for Eoghan harder than I did for them, because I believed I was in love with him. Because, from the moment I met him- It- It really was like a bolt of lightning. I was addicted to him, and I couldn’t see the real him through the image I had of him. I believed in it so much that I only really fought for him.”

“These scars prove that that’s not true.” Harry says gently, thumbing over Niall’s wrist. “It only feels that way because they died. Because you feel like fighting for them should have led to some kind of result. But things don’t always work out that way. Sometimes evil wins, and, the only thing you can do is keep trying to put as much good into the world as you can.”

“Not sure I have long enough to live to do enough good to atone for the choices I made that cost people their lives and their bodies.” Niall says quietly. “Not enough years in the lifespan for that.”

“Then just work towards it one day at a time.” Harry murmurs, pressing a kiss to Niall’s forehead. “Do as much good as you can each day, but don’t do it for atonement. Do it because the world deserves to be a better place. Do it because you’re a good person, and that’s what you do. You make the world better.”

“Not sure I do.” Niall admits.

“Well I am.” Harry says with a soft smile. “And I can believe it enough for both of us until you realize that I’m right.”

“Are you always going to be this smug and self-assured?” Niall sighs.

“It’s not myself I’m sure about.” Harry says softly, tilting Niall’s chin up. “It’s you. I’ve never been surer of anyone or anything than I am of you.”

And, really, Niall doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t have that kind of faith in himself. But, if Harry has that kind of belief in Niall’s future, in their future, then Niall isn’t going to argue it. It probably wouldn’t do him any good anyways, knowing Harry’s stubborn streak.

So, instead, Niall just settles for pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips and murmuring, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry replies with a happy sigh.


	39. Chapter 39

“This- This is deeply unsanitary.” Harry chokes out in something like a mashup between a giggle and a gasp.

And- Well- He’s not wrong. Harry’s bare arse is definitely closer to the food than it should be. But it’s got a few inches to go before he’s actually sitting in the salad. Niall will have to throw away the carrot that Harry is sitting on for sure, though.

All in all, it’s not much of a sacrifice when the wanton moans Harry is letting out from the feeling of his cock hitting the back of Niall’s throat are taken into consideration. Niall wouldn’t care if it were, though. He’d burn the whole house down afterwards if it were necessary, as long as he got to make Harry feel good like this.

So Niall hums noncommittally in response, mostly just to feel the way the brunet writhes at the vibrations with the hands that he has on Harry’s hips, holding him down to the counter. Harry moans even louder and smacks his head back against the cupboard, but doesn’t have any more of a reaction to the pain than curling his fingers into Niall’s hair, so the blond doesn’t stop.

He sucks Harry down greedily, because, despite his desire to give Harry pleasure, it’s not exactly doing nothing for Niall. The sounds Harry makes and the feeling of their skin touching does wonders for Niall’s dick. And he knows that he won’t have time to get off, but the memory of this and the anticipation are going to keep him on the edge for hours, and he knows Harry will return the favor all too eagerly later. It’s definitely not wholly selfless.

The doorbell rings, and Niall really begins to wonder how much of an exhibitionism kink he’s going to have to learn to work with, because Harry cums down his throat without warning, but with a bone rattling moan that whoever is outside definitely heard.

“Sorry.” Harry gasps out when Niall pulls away to swallow. “Sorry, sorry, sorry- It just- Hit me.”

“It’s fine, love.” Niall assures him once he’s managed to swallow. “Just put your trousers back on and answer the door while I clean up our mess.”

“Where did that come from?” Harry asks, lowering himself off of the counter and onto wobbly legs that make Niall feel more than a bit proud. “Not that I’m complaining, but- Why did you just grab me and manhandle me onto the counter and suck me off?”

“To try and keep you sated while we have guests, since you’ve barely been able to keep your hands to yourself the last two days, and I’m hosting a lot of people who don’t need to hear you drag me off and fuck me in the middle of dinner.” Niall says with a shrug. “Like my nephew. And Greg says he’s okay with it, but it would still be better if he didn’t hear us. You know- Again. Gonna have to gag you from now on when people are in the general vicinity.”

“Christ- Take your trousers off.” Harry grunts out, reaching down between them to start on Niall’s button.

“Get the door, Harry.” Niall chuckles, pushing the Brunet’s hands away. “That’s probably Greg.”

“I have never been so insulted.” scoffs a voice behind Niall.

“Jaysus- How did you even get in here?” Niall groans, looking over his shoulder at Louis.

“Still have my key.” Louis shrugs. “Hello, Harold.”

“See?” Harry purrs. “Not Greg. Let me blow you now.”

“Seriously, did that jail cell take me to an alternate universe?” Louis asks, looking over at Liam, who’s standing next to him with a sheepish blush. “What is happening lately? Greg’s back- Harry’s here and Niall’s not being a prick- I must have been transported somewhere else. This cannot be the world I’m from.”

“Maybe this is a universe where you’re decent at your job.” Niall smirks.

“Fuck all the way off.” Louis says flatly, taking the serving dish from Liam’s hands and stepping into the kitchen to set it on the island. “We brought a roast, in case you were serious about the vegetarian thing. It just needs to be popped in the oven for an hour.”

“Go on then.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “Hope you brought enough for everyone, because I was absolutely serious. I’m not preparing a bunch of meat for you people every time you just decide I’m going to be hosting something. Special occasions only.”

“I think this qualifies as a special occasion, darling.” Harry hums in his ear.

“I meant holidays, love.” Niall says, patting at Harry’s hip. “Us dating doesn’t qualify as a holiday. If banks aren’t closed for it, I’m not cooking meat.”

“I was talking about LiveWell.” Harry snorts. “We can do the celebrations for our dating life in private. Much more fun that way. And I plan to make the most of this upcoming week doing just that. And you. And you doing me. And-”

“I get the gist.” Niall laughs, sliding a hand over Harry’s mouth. “Can you please behave yourself for a few hours? When everybody goes home, I promise, we can do whatever debauched things come to your mind, as long as you behave until then.”

“Okay, seriously- What’s going on here?” Louis asks while Harry nods fervently behind Niall’s hand. “When did this start up?”

“Night before last.” Niall answers him. “Would have told you yesterday, but you just flapped your mouth a lot and then ran out of there.”

“And it’s like- Real?” Louis asks. “You’re not still being a gobshite?”

“I’m done fighting it.” Niall says with a soft smile that only grows when Harry nuzzles into his neck. “Can’t help falling in love with him, so I’m done trying to fight it.”

“You two need to get out of here now.” Harry says in a gravelly voice, turning Niall around by the hips to show his blown out pupils. “Because I’m going to blow my boyfriend. I’ll come get you when he’s finished, so you can wait outside.”

Liam can barely drag Louis out of the room before Harry is on his knees, and, well- Niall supposes a little celebration isn’t completely out of order. Asking Harry to behave himself was just a pipe dream anyways.

 

“So- You’re with Harry now.” Ashton hums, settling into the spot across the island while Niall grates some new carrots that haven’t been under Harry’s arse.

“Yup.” Niall says with a nod. “You missed your opportunity, but don’t be too sad about it. Luke is alright too.”

“And it’s going well?” Ashton asks quietly, ignoring Niall’s joke. “Like- It’s for real? Not just some temporary thing? You’re not going to turn around and end this like an idiot tomorrow, right?”

“If I did, that would be pretty stupid.” Niall snorts. “I don’t fancy owing two-hundred-fifty grand to my boyfriend, but I really don’t fancy owing it to an ex-boyfriend.”

“What the hell?” Ashton asks. “Why do you owe Harry that kind of money?”

“He’s lending me what I need to make up the deficit to buy back LiveWell with Simon Cowell.” Niall explains. “I’m selling the house, and I’ll pay him back with what I make from the sale.”

“You’re selling the house?” Ashton asks, eyes going wide. “This house?”

“Well, I don’t own any other houses, Ash.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “If I did, I wouldn’t have had this conundrum in the first place. I don’t plan on owing him for long. If the house doesn’t sell in the next few months, then I’m just going to sell it to the bank. They’ll gouge me a bit, but it’ll be worth it.”

“How many months?” Ashton asks. “Like- Before July?”

“I was thinking August.” Niall shrugs. “I’ll probably give it six, because that makes the most sense to me.”

“But you’re taking offers on it already?” Ashton questions.

“Not yet.” Niall tells him, dropping his carrot. “I have to set something up with the realtor. Why the inquisition about the house? I tell you I’m dating Harry and that I’m buying LiveWell back, and you barely say a word, but I sell the house and that gets you fired up?”

“I want it.” Ashton says firmly, locking his eyes with Niall’s. “I want the house. But my money is tied up until July, remember?”

“Ashton.” Niall scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m serious here.”

“So am I.” Ashton says, narrowing his own eyes at Niall. “I want the house, Niall. It’s perfect. I love this place- Luke loves this place- You’d get to visit and keep it in the family, essentially. What’s not brilliant about that?”

“You’re not worth enough to buy this place.” Niall points out. “I mean- For you, yeah, I’d bring it down to my absolute floor, but it’s still worth six-hundred-thousand, Ash. What I don’t use to pay Harry back is going into a new place for us.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard of this thing called a mortgage loan, but I’m pretty sure it would mean I don’t have to have the other half of what the house is worth right as soon as I buy it.” Ashton huffs.

“It’s generally pretty hard to get a mortgage loan when you don’t have a full-time job.” Niall argues. “Ash, I’d love to sell this place to you, but I can’t hold out for five months just to find out you don’t qualify for the loan you’ll need. Harry and I have enough of a rough start without me taking a year to pay him back. And that’s not even taking into consideration that you haven’t even talked to Luke about it.”

“Luke!” Ashton calls out over his shoulder. “Come here. I need to ask you something.”

“I don’t want to move!” Luke groans loudly enough to be heard from the sitting room.

“It’s about buying a house!” Ashton yells to him.

“Buying a what now?” Luke asks, showing up in the doorway only a moment later.

“A house.” Ashton chuckles. “Niall is selling this place.”

“You are?” Luke asks, eyes going wide as he stumbles up to the island. “When? For how much? You don’t already have any offers, right?”

“Would you like to live here, Lukey?” Ashton asks, leaning forward with a smirk and settling his chin in his hand.

“Yes!” Luke hisses at him. “What kind of stupid question is that?”

“You know Ash and I have had sex all over this house, right?” Niall questions.

“Oh, I’m going to need a renovating budget, but it’s not as if you’re leaving all the furniture.” Luke says with a shrug. “The tile in the bathroom has got to go, and I’ll need a bigger window in the master, and I’d turn the dining room into a sun-room. But I love this place. So much better than our flat.”

“Hey!” Ashton pouts.

“So much better.” Luke repeats with a bit more firmness. “The office is going to have to go too. It’ll be my music room. Oh! And I’ve always thought the sitting room would be nicer in shades of gold and-”

“Convinced?” Ashton asks, looking over at Niall. Luke doesn’t even seem to notice, too lost in his imaginary renovations and redecorating to notice that Ash and Niall have stopped paying attention.

“You still don’t have a job.” Niall points out. “But, I might have an idea about that, actually.”

 

“Yes.” Bressie nods. “Absolutely. I’ll take them both.”

“They’re not for sale, Bressie.” Niall snorts. “And don’t you think you should like- Properly talk to Ash first before you decide to hire him into my old position?”

“I’ve heard him play.” Bressie says with a shrug. “He did the drums at the gala, without any notice. He played the piano at Christmas while Luke sang carols. He was on your guitar in the other room before he came in here. He’s smart, capable and charming, which is two more things than you had going.”

“I am a literal genius!” Niall growls at him.

“I meant the capable and charming parts.” Bressie grins. “You were a lazy little grump at work. All the time.”

“Wait- You worked with Bressie?” Greg asks, cutting in. “You not only know him, but worked with him? Really? Is this real life?”

“I think you might have a fan.” Niall sniggers.

“He asked me to sign his baby.” Bressie whispers. “He’s not just a fan, he’s a bit mad.”

“Runs in the family.” Niall grins. “I’m going to keep an eye on Theo. He likes to torture Conan.”

“He just- Plays rough.” Greg mumbles, looking over to where Theo is trying to squeeze past Luke and Harry to get at Conan. He sighs before adding, “I’ve had him tested by a therapist. He’s normal for his age. I’m keeping an eye out for bipolar symptoms, though. It runs in families. Normally manifests later, but I’d rather be overcautious.”

“Did you ever have Maura tested?” Niall asks cautiously.

“By the time of my diagnosis, she was already beginning to slip.” Greg says softly. “They couldn’t make a conclusive diagnosis for her. Have you been tested?”

“I’ve been seeing one therapist or another for a year and a half, Greg.” Niall chuckles. “Someone would have caught it by now. I’m messed up in the head, but a different kind of messed up.”

“I just- I worry that it’s me.” Greg says quietly.

“Bress, can you give us a minute?” Niall requests. “You should tell Ash he has the job if he wants it, which he does.”

“Be nice to him.” Bressie says, directing the words at Niall as he stands up. “He may be nuts, but I don’t have a lot of fans that are so- Enthusiastic. Would be nice to keep them all.”

“You meant that you’re worried that you’ve passed it on and made his life harder, didn’t you?” Niall asks once they’re alone.

“I could have.” Greg mutters.

“You could have.” Niall agrees, reaching out to hold Greg’s knee. “But you also might not have. And, even if you did, it wouldn’t be for him like it has been for you.”

“It’s not like these things have a cure, Niall.” Greg sighs. “They can be controlled, and lived with, but there’s not a definite cure for the kinds of things we have.”

“Not yet.” Niall agrees again. “But Theo will have something that you didn’t have so much. He’ll have a support system. You’ve been through it. I’ve been through it. We can help him if this kind of thing ever happens. Bressie and Ashton have been through it. And, even better, one of his pseudo-uncles is a therapist. He’s a bit unconventional, but he’s good. This little family I’ve built for myself- We support each other. It’s how I’ve lived with this. It’s how I know that Theo will be okay, even if he turns out to have it, because he’ll have you. And me, if you decide you want that.”

“I decided before I ever came here, Niall.” Greg returns, placing his hand on top of Niall’s. “It’s you who needs to decide that you want us to be a part of this family you’ve built.”

“Aw, you call us family to your brother?” Louis asks, popping up out of nowhere and draping himself over the back of the couch with one arm around each of the brothers. “That’s so sweet, Niall. Group hug!”

“Groopug?” Theo asks excitedly, turning around and launching himself towards Greg and Niall as fast as his little legs will carry him. He climbs onto the couch and splays a hand over each of Greg and Niall’s faces, participating as best as he can.

Then Harry is filling up Niall’s space, giggling into his ear, and Luke’s not far behind, probably making Greg regret this immensely when all one-hundred-and-ninety-three centimeters of Luke lands in his lap.

“Ash! Bressie! Liam! Get in here! It’s a group hug!” Luke calls out.

“Still want to be a part of it?” Niall asks, looking over at Greg as best as he can.

“I’ll give you my answer after I find out what’s happened to my spleen.” Greg wheezes out as the other three make their way to the pile and grab on. Niall can only laugh when Greg groans because Conan decides to jump on the pile and make the group complete.

 

“So-” Louis says quietly, pulling the roast out of the oven for Niall. “You and Harry-”

“If you’re going to throw an ‘I told you so’ in my face, I will literally murder you.” Niall says flatly, moving his hand to a knife to show he means business.

“I think that goes without being said.” Louis snorts, setting the dish down and taking off the oven mitts. “I am a bit peeved with how many tellies I had to buy in your ultimately fruitless quest to get over him, though.”

“That was your own fault.” Niall scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You know, they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results.”

“The definition of insanity is being fucking crazy.” Louis hums. “We wouldn’t have anything in this world if people didn’t try and fail and try again. We wouldn’t have phones or planes or- You.”

“Louis.” Niall sighs.

“Do you know how proud I am of you?” Louis murmurs. “Of how far you’ve come?”

“Stop getting all soppy, or I’ll start believing that you really did change universes with another version of yourself.” Niall huffs, ducking his head.

“When we met, I thought you were doomed.” Louis admits. “You were so broken that- That I thought you’d end up killing yourself one day.”

“Haven’t got much faith in either of us, have you?” Niall mutters.

“I didn’t have faith in my abilities to get you to a better place, and I was right.” Louis says softly. “It wasn’t me that got you here, Niall. It wasn’t me, or Liam, or Bressie, or Ashton, or Luke, or Conan, or even Harry. It was you. You got yourself to this point through pure strength of will.”

“You’re wrong.” Niall breathes out, looking through the door to the kitchen into the sitting room where everyone else is setting the table Louis brought. Harry is taking care of filling the glasses, wine for some, and beer for others. Ashton is placing each of the plates down, and Luke is following behind him to put down the silverware. Bressie and Liam are busy hauling chairs around the room, deftly avoiding where Greg is trying to wrangle Theo, who’s chasing Conan with that gleam in his eyes. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you guys. I couldn’t have killed myself, but- But I’d still be that barely human wreck. I’ve always needed something to fight for, and that’s what you all gave me. I couldn’t do that for myself. I can’t make myself have something to live for. Only you guys could have given me that.”

“Don’t go saying things like that.” Louis hums, nudging their shoulders together. “I’ll start thinking you have a heart or something.”

“Can’t have you getting the wrong idea, can I?” Niall chuckles, pushing back against Louis.

“Then again, someone believed in that heart enough to get it beating again.” Louis says, nodding towards Harry, who’s planted himself between Theo and Conan, the lab cowering behind his legs. “Figure he makes you out to be pretty good.”

“Nobody’s as good as Harry makes them out to be.” Niall whispers, recalling the words of that boy who sold him jam and craved Harry’s dick. He makes a mental note to ask if Harry ever fucked jam boy, but that can wait until later.

“I have a feeling he’s not going to be so happy with you once he finds out you’re selling this place to Ashton.” Louis grins.

“Yeah, well-” Niall shrugs, turning back to the food he’s supposed to be plating up. “I’m just going to have to tell him after giving him a few orgasms.”

“You’d better be talking about me.” comes a familiar voice behind Niall. “Because I do not approve otherwise.”

“Ashton is buying the house.” Louis giggles, making Niall turn on him with a furious glare. “And that’s my cue to leave. Have fun, Neil.”

He’s passing Harry in the doorway in a flash, putting himself in the middle of a room full of witnesses in the hopes that that’ll save him. He even goes as far as to grab Theo off of the ground and smirk at Niall over the toddler’s shoulder.

“You can’t be serious.” Harry says, his lip pulling up in disgust.

“Harry, pet- Listen-” Niall stammers.

“It’s not enough that I have to put up with him all the time for you-” Harry growls, stalking forward. “But now you two are literally going to share a home? Really, Niall? Really?”

“You’re the one that I’m sharing a home with.” Niall argues.

“And not only are you going to share a home with him-” Harry continues, coming around the corner of the island straight for Niall, but ignoring his words. “You decided to keep it a secret from me, only to try and manipulate me into being okay with things by telling me when I’m in a state to be easily influenced? That is not how this is going to work, Niall. From now on, you need to start being honest with me, or, next time, I’m not going to be so fine with things.”

“You- You’re fine with it?” Niall asks confusedly.

“Of course.” Harry shrugs, grabbing a slice of cucumber and popping it into his mouth. He swallows, then adds, “I mean- I know it’s going to take a bit for them to actually gather the funds, but, if we already have a buyer, that means we can start looking sooner, yeah?”

“Why are you so calm about this?” Niall asks suspiciously. “Who told you before Louis?”

“Nobody told me, per se.” Harry hums. “But Luke has been measuring for drapes and holding up his mobile against the wall with different colors. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

“And you’re okay with it?” Niall questions.

“I mean- I’m not in love with the idea, but I’m not torn up about it either.” Harry concedes. “I know he’s important to you, and, this way, it stays in the family.”

“Ash said the same thing.” Niall admits with a relieved sigh. “You two really are very alike.”

“Never say that to me again.” Harry huffs. “I only have so much forgiveness in me.”

“Guess I’d better use it sparingly then.” Niall chuckles. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it at least a few times.”

“It can always be refreshed by snogging.” Harry hums.

“Better refill the tank then.” Niall grins, grabbing Harry’s collar and pulling him in.

 

“What are you doing?” Niall asks, looking over at Greg.

“Sending a picture of this meal to Denise.” Greg grins. “She’s going to be so upset for missing this, but she just had to try that curry from a street vendor for lunch. I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Be nice to your wife.” Niall huffs, taking the mobile out of Greg’s hand. “She gives you sex and love, which are more than you deserve if you’re going to torture her like that.”

“Haven’t even met her, and you’re already taking her side.” Greg huffs.

“Because I’ve met you, and that’s more than enough information to make an informed decision.” Niall smirks.

“So is this like- Par for the course for you two?” Louis asks, gesturing between them with his knife.

“No. Normally there’s a lot more yelling and cursing.” Greg hums. “But we’ve got boyo there to think about, so we’re keeping it pretty calm. Also, yelling isn’t exactly good for trying to build a relationship.”

“I disagree.” Louis huffs. “Liam and I have it out at least once a month. Clears the air, and pretty much always leads to some pretty intense-”

“Theo.” Liam grunts out, slapping his hand over Louis’ mouth.

“Making up.” Louis says diplomatically after removing Liam’s hand.

“I don’t think that kind of making up is what they need to be doing.” Ashton snorts. “What is it with you and brothers? Is that your kink?”

“No.” Niall says firmly. “We are not having that conversation again. Christmas was enough, thank you. Everybody here is too involved in each other’s sex lives as is.”

“What kind of weird sh- Stuff happens in this house?” Greg asks.

“You don’t even want to know.” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “We don’t have monthly family group times, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I would be down for that one-hundred percent.” Luke hums.

“All those in favor-” Louis starts before Niall silences him with a stony glare. “Should probably not say anything.”

“I vote nay.” Bressie sighs.

“But you’re the whole reason I want it.” Luke grins.

“How many times have we got to have this conversation?” Niall groans. “Luke, Bressie isn’t going to shag you. He likes his women with big tits and lips.”

“Doesn’t know what he’s missing, does he?” Ashton chuckles, pressing a kiss to Luke’s temple.

“I give better head than anyone at this table.” Luke grumbles.

“Um- There’s two former professional sex-workers at this table, so I think that you’d have to reconsider that.” Louis snorts.

“Well, Niall has had sex with both of them, so I could just blow Niall and let him decide who the best is.” Luke says, brightening up.

“No.” Harry says firmly. “Not happening. You are not sucking my boyfriend’s dick. Should have done that in the last few months when he wasn’t attached.”

“I tried, believe me.” Luke smirks. “Came close a few times, too. Like right after you left on Christmas, and-”

“Luke!” Niall hisses. “Stop antagonizing him! That’s not true and you know it!”

“Better not be.” Harry says with a pointed look. “One of them is enough.”

“You say that like you haven’t made out with him too.” Luke huffs.

“This is so much more entertaining than Niall and Greg fighting would have been.” Louis chuckles. “I could write a book about this group’s dynamics.”

“I honestly should know better than to have you all under the same roof by now.” Niall sighs. “This is my fault. No more than two of you at a time anymore.”

“You know there’s no way that’s actually happening, yeah?” Liam laughs. “You’re stuck with all of us now.”

“Remember when I was a recluse?” Niall mutters. “I miss that.”

“No you don’t.” Greg says quietly when they all start laughing at him. “You’ve got yourself a good family here, Niall. Strange, but good.”

“Yeah, they’re what I’ve got to work with.” Niall says with a small smile as he looks at each of them. It’s so different than just a few months ago- So different than the day that Niall met Harry, where he sat apart from everyone except Louis and kept everyone separate for some distance. Now he’s got a pack of characters surrounding him, and he doesn’t want to fight it anymore. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. I might have room for a few more people though, if you want a place at my table.”

“To the families we make.” Greg hums, tilting his glass of water at Niall.

“And the ones that make us.” Niall returns, clinking his against Greg’s.

 

“You were pretty quiet tonight.” Niall says softly, molding himself against Harry’s back and tucking his chin over the brunet’s shoulder to watch him scrub the dishes. “Something bothering you?”

“No.” Harry says with a smile. “I just like watching you in your element. I like seeing you with each of them. I mean- Except Ashton, but I’m working on that. It’s going to take time before I can squash down that jealousy completely.”

“We’ve got time.” Niall murmurs, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “All the time in the world.”

“You promise?” Harry asks quietly, dropping the sponge and slipping his soapy fingers between Niall’s on his stomach.

“I do.” Niall nods. “And I’ll keep promising every day until you believe me.”

“Do you regret it?” Harry questions, turning around in Niall’s arms until they’re face to face. “Do you regret that there’s all this time we could have been together, but weren’t?”

“No.” Niall admits. Harry’s face falls, and Niall quickly adds, “Because I needed that time, love. I needed it to get better. I’m not saying that I don’t regret how I hurt you, because I do. I regret so much about the way things happened between us. But I needed the time and work it’s taken me to get here. I needed it to work on myself, because, if we’d gotten together back when this first became something- It wouldn’t have lasted. I wasn’t ready.

“I’m still not sure I’m ready, because- Because you have a level of power over me that I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable handing over again. But I am sure that you won’t use it to hurt me. I love you so much more than I ever could have imagined. I love you so much that I was willing to give up everything to make sure you were happy. And that kind of love is terrifying to me, because it feels so fucking good, but, at the same time, you could destroy me with a single word if that word was ‘goodbye’.”

“Not goodbye.” Harry murmurs, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around Niall’s neck. “Never goodbye. Just-”

“See you around.” Niall finishes for him.

“Exactly.” Harry hums. “I’m not going anywhere because I want to stay, for the rest of my natural days, in your arms.”

“Caught you.” Niall grins.

“I gave you an easy one.” Harry scoffs.

“Then give me a harder one tomorrow.” Niall shrugs, moving his hands to Harry’s hips. “Keep making it harder every day, because at least that means I get every day with you.”

“I don’t regret it either.” Harry says softly, pressing their foreheads together. “I’d have waited for you forever, as long as you got to this point. Loving you- It feels like a part of who I am now. So, as long as you got here, I don’t regret it.”

“Of course, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make up for that time.” Niall hums. “So how about you and I go curl up on the couch with Conan, and we have an Elvis marathon until we can’t keep our eyes open anymore?”

“Sounds like a dream come true.” Harry giggles. “You sure you’re up for all that? I’m probably going to say and sing every line, word for word.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Niall chuckles. “Pretty sure it’ll just make me fall more in love with you. After all, I can’t help falling in love with you.”

And, when Harry kisses him, it feels like a promise. A promise not to run when Niall has his dark moments. A promise not to let Niall run when he has his dark moments. It feels like a promise for tomorrow and the rest of their lives that this is exactly how they’re meant to be, and that all of the things that happened to lead them here have been worth something, as long as they have each other in the end.


	40. Chapter 40

“Oh god- Fuck!” Niall groans as Harry bottoms out inside him, pressing him fully against the cold glass of the window pane. It’s fucking cold, even though summer is still keeping things warm by letting out its dying breath before fall takes over. But Harry is so fucking warm against him too, fresh out of the shower and nearly boiling hot where he’s pressed flush against Niall’s backside.

It’s a contrast that has Niall head spinning even more when Harry’s hot hand presses flat over his stomach, keeping them both in place when he pulls out and pumps back in. Niall’s got his knee braced on the bench under the window, and a cushion under his stump, but the only thing keeping him upright when Harry starts really thrusting is the way Harry has both of his wrists trapped against the window under his other hand.

Niall’s head drops back onto Harry’s shoulder, and he uses it as an opportunity to suction his mouth onto the spot between Niall’s neck and shoulder, sucking in a bruise. And Niall hates being marked up under normal circumstances, doesn’t like covering up the bruises because what they get up to is their own business, but these aren’t normal circumstances. 

It’s been far too long since they’ve had this, and even Niall is feeling a little bit like an exhibitionist. Being with Harry has long since taken him from prudish to something more open, but today is special. Today is a big day in so many ways, and it has Niall feeling a thousand things all at once. But Harry is his stabilizing force.

Niall tries to tug his left hand out of Harry’s hold, tries to reach down to chase the finish Harry is pushing him towards so fucking well, but Harry keeps his grip steady and grunts out, “No. Just from me. I know you can do it.”

“Harry, please!” Niall whines. “I just want to cum. I wanna cum so fucking bad! I need to-”

And then Harry’s angle shifts, takes the pleasure up from ten to one-hundred, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Niall is cumming hard from where his cock is trapped between his hip and the window, coating the glass and skin all the way up to Harry’s hand.

“Fuck!” Harry moans, burying his face in Niall’s neck as he fucks in a few more times and buries himself inside Niall. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he chuckles out, “Told you that you could do it.”

“Stop being so smug and pull out.” Niall mumbles, pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple before he lifts his head back up. “My dick is cold, and I have to shower again, thanks to you.”

“Mm, think I’ll join you.” Harry hums as he braces Niall’s hip and pulls out. “I could use another.”

“You know, this is why our gas bill is sky high.” Niall sighs, pushing himself off of the window. “Why do you always insist on fucking right after we shower?”

“I missed you too.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “Welcome back, Ni.”

“Oh, you know I didn’t mean anything by it.” Niall chuckles, turning around and sitting on the bench, clenching tight to make sure Harry’s cum doesn’t leak all over it as well. The window is enough of a mess. “Wouldn’t have spent so much getting the place retro-fitted for that big old water heater if I had a problem with it.”

“It’s always ‘money, money, money’ with you.” Harry snorts. “I’m starting to think you just married me for the money.”

“And the sex.” Niall smirks. “You’re slightly better than my hand, most of the time.”

“I’m divorcing you.” Harry giggles, grabbing one of their cloths out of the drawer by the bed and kneeling down in front of Niall.

“I got married by an Elvis impersonator for you.” Niall scoffs. “That’s forever. Until death do we part, arsehole.”

“They mean it when they say the honeymoon period doesn’t last.” Harry says, shaking his head as he runs the flannel over Niall’s stomach. “Who would have guessed that it would only be two weeks?”

“Two years, more like.” Niall murmurs, tilting Harry’s chin up so he has access to press a kiss against his lips. “Almost two and a half, actually, and it still feels like the honeymoon phase most days. And I did miss you, you know. I wish we could have had a real honeymoon, instead of just one more day in Vegas.”

“We’ll get around to it.” Harry says with a shrug and a soft smile. “Now that the birth is over and done with, and the center is opening, things will be easier. Plus, you have three months before you have to go flying off to New York and wherever else again.”

“It’s Honduras, next time.” Niall tells him. “That’s the trip I’m scheduled for. Three days in New York, two weeks in Honduras, and then another four days in Los Angeles to work with Simon on the plans for the West Coast division afterwards.”

“I’m really starting to hate these trips.” Harry grumbles.

“Hey, now-” Niall purrs, clinking the Claddaghs on their left hands together. “This one wasn’t so bad.”

“They’re going to be mad.” Harry sighs.

“They’ll understand.” Niall shrugs. “It’s not exactly a spur of the moment elopement if we call everyone and wait for them to get there. Besides- We only had the one day.”

“It seemed like such a good idea at the time.” Harry says quietly. “And I don’t regret it. I don’t. I just wish we hadn’t had to keep this a secret for the last two weeks. Makes me feel like we’ve done something wrong.”

“We didn’t have to.” Niall points out. “But, if we’d told people, then you’d have had to deal with all of it yourself, since I’ve been in Argentina for the last ten days.”

“Mm, say ‘Ar-hen-tee-na’ again.” Harry moans, dropping the cloth on the ground. “Makes me hot when you come back with the accents, and I want to show you how much I missed you again before everyone gets here.”

“Ar-hen-tee-na.” Niall purrs.

The whimper that echoes through the room doesn’t come from either Niall or Harry, though. No, it comes from the baby-monitor set up on the nightstand, making Niall groan at the cries that soon start up.

“How long is this going to keep happening?” Niall mutters, pulling away from Harry and rolling his eyes.

“Not long.” Harry assures him. “They’re only eight weeks old. They’ll outgrow it.”

“So fucking needy.” Niall says, slipping on his sock and reaching for Bobby. “You go see what they need. I’m going to take that shower. Once you get them settled back down, you can come join me if you’re still interested.”

“You’re not going to help?” Harry asks with a pout.

“Hey, this was your choice, and I told you before we decided to have them- They’re your responsibility.” Niall shrugs. “It’s your job to keep them alive and happy, not mine.”

“You’re a terrible dad.” Harry huffs, rolling his eyes and grabbing a pair of Niall’s shorts that he tugs on as he heads out the door.

He doesn’t even bother to pass over Bobby two-point-O from the other side of the bed, which is really unfortunate, because that leaves Niall to hop across the room into the en suite. He’ll deal with it, though. He knows he’s not being fair to Harry with this, but he has his reasons. He has to stick to his guns.

So he pushes himself up off of the bench and uses the furniture to brace himself as he makes his way slowly though the room. They’d set it up specifically for this reason, keeping the furniture large so that Niall always has something to support him instead of having to put on his prosthetic if he needs to get around in the middle of the night or something.

The counter is just inside the door, stretching across the entire left bathroom wall, which means that Niall can get through it without a problem. The granite is cold against his arse as he sits on the edge to give himself the support to lean into the shower and turn it back on again, praying that their earlier escapade hasn’t drained the supply of hot water completely.

There’s at least enough for a quick rinse, because it comes out steaming, and Niall eases himself in. Harry had surprised Niall a few months back with a custom prosthetic designed specifically for use in the shower, giving him a way to do it without the bar, and Niall slips it on gladly. When he travels, he never brings it, simply because he already brings two with him everywhere and it gets a bit insane with all the cases, so it’s nice to have it back now.

It doesn’t give him a lot of mobility, because the bottom is designed with ridges to make it non-slip, but it lets him actually use both hands, so Niall feels like it’s a fair trade off.

It also keeps him steady when Harry somehow manages to climb into the shower silently and scare the living daylights out of him, which is another fair trade.

“Jaysus!” Niall hisses at him when his heart stops trying to break his ribcage. “You can’t do that, Harry! I could fall and break my neck.”

“I always make sure to grab ahold of you, don’t I?” Harry chuckles.

“Cannot believe I went from a spook to a ninja.” Niall says, shaking his head. “My taste in men makes me wonder if I should start seeing Louis again.”

“Be nice to me.” Harry whines. “I just had to clean up poop because you refuse to help.”

“Your hands had better be clean.” Niall snorts.

“They are.” Harry hums. “But I’m hoping you get them dirty again really soon.”

 

Niall walks into the nursery, feeling light with the recent string of orgasms Harry pulled out of him, and then promptly stops dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

“Jaysus, Harry.” Niall sighs. “Onesies? Really? They aren’t babies.”

“They’re my babies.” Harry pouts, reaching down and plucking two of the puppies off of the ground. “All of them. Look at them. Don’t they look like me? Brown hair and green eyes and all?”

“No.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “They look like Conan. Stop that. It’s not going to work.”

“Niall!” Harry whimpers.

“We can’t keep all of them.” Niall says firmly. “Not only can we just not handle six puppies, we made a deal with James in order for him to lend us one of the unmatched females to breed Conan with. Two are going to be raised for All Dogs go to Heaven.”

“But we could still raise the other four as ours.” Harry argues stubbornly, as if they haven’t been having this conversation over and over again for weeks now.

“No, because two of them are already promised to Theo and Luke.” Niall sighs. “Two. That’s what we agreed to keep. And I only ever wanted to keep one, so two is as far as you’re getting me to budge on this.”

“Why are you so mean?” Harry pouts. He holds the puppies straight out, nearly sending Niall flopping onto his arse just to avoid being head-butted by eight week old labs. “Look at them. How can you just send them away forever?”

“Love-” Niall says gently, taking the puppies out of Harry’s hands and placing them on the floor with the rest of their wiggly, yipping brothers and sisters. “I know you love them all, but you know this is what we have to do.”

“I know.” Harry mumbles, dropping his eyes towards the floor. “I just don’t want to let any of them go.”

“It’s not like you’ll never see them again.” Niall points out. “We’ll see two of them whenever we visit Ash and Luke, or Greg and Theo and Denise. And the other two will come back to the facility and you’ll see them there. They’re all going to go to good homes, two of them with people we know and love.”

“Arguable.” Harry mutters.

“It’s been almost three years. Can’t you two just get along?” Niall asks, sitting in the chair and immediately getting jumped on by six squirming puppies, all crying for his attention. Niall picks up Johnny B. Goode Dog, whose name stems from Niall losing a bet to name the puppies, and begins stroking behind his ear.

“Not when he loves to bring up that he had you first.” Harry grunts out, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and letting the five that Niall isn’t holding crawl all over him. “Every bloody time we see each other, he has to find some subtle way to rub it in my face.”

“Stop letting it get to you.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “He only teases because you get so flustered whenever it comes up. Never mind that he’s basically like a brother to me.”

“A brother you’ve had loads of sex with.” Harry huffs, pulling Jean-Luc Houserock into his arms. He’s the other puppy they’re keeping, which Harry named after the coffee name that Niall made up on what Harry whimsically refers to as their first date. That way, they’re keeping both of the ones based on the names they used for that. Niall is just surprised that Harry didn’t choose the one named Elvis, although that probably has something to do with a certain ruined pair of boots.

“Why do you have to make it weird?” Niall asks, wrinkling up his nose. “I love Ashton, but it’s not like that.”

“You love me more, right?” Harry asks, looking up at him.

“No competition.” Niall says with a soft smile. “I love you more than anyone, love. Nobody else comes close, except Conan.”

“Another postcard came for you this morning.” Harry says quietly, reaching into his pocket with no small amount of difficulty and pulling out a card, which has been folded in half. He hands it over, adding, “Same as always. Just an ‘E’ with nothing else. I almost wish he’d just- Just say something, you know?”

“These are just so I know he’s alive, love.” Niall says, tucking the postcard into his own pocket to be added later to the collection he keeps in a shoebox. Eoghan sends them once a month, just a picture of the skyline from whatever city he’s in at the time and some cheesy message for tourists, only signing them with his first initial so that Niall knows it’s him. 

On Louis and Harry’s encouragement, Niall put out a message from Vauxhall Cross, and Eoghan showed up on the doorstep of the cottage that Harry and Niall had bought together a year and a half ago. Their second post-Syria conversation had gone much less violently, and ended in an agreement for Eoghan to let Niall know he’s alive from time to time after they’d cleared the air as one of the final steps in Niall’s therapy. They don’t talk, don’t message or write or call, but Eoghan sends Niall the postcards, and that’s enough.

“We’ve taken the time to say all we need to say to one another. I just need to know he’s still out there somewhere. That we didn’t survive all of that, just for him to end up dead.” Niall murmurs.

“I just worry what it’s going to do to you when these stop coming.” Harry says quietly, leaning his head against Niall’s knee. “Because they are going to stop coming one day, Niall. He’s chosen to stay in the field, and that means that, one day, he’s not going to be around to send one of these.”

“When that time comes, I’ll have another stone made.” Niall tells him, referring to the cluster of marble tablets that line the path in their garden, each with the names of the people they’ve lost, from Niall’s comrades in Syria to their parents. Niall already has the spot picked out, right in front of the apple tree, because he knows Harry’s right. One day the cards will stop coming. “I’ll grieve him, and then I’ll let it go. I let go of him in my heart a long time ago. But, as long as he’s out there, it means I’m not the only one left, and that makes things a little easier. But it’s not going to break me again when it happens. I promise.”

“I hope it’s not for a long time.” Harry whispers, pressing a kiss to Niall’s leg and then letting a comfortable silence settle between them as they turn their attentions towards the puppies.

 

“Come around back.” Niall says into his mobile. “I’m not walking all the way through the house just because you’re too lazy.”

“So we have to walk around?” Ashton scoffs. “You’re the lazy one.”

“You’ve got two perfectly good legs. Use them, rock star.” Niall snorts, ringing off before Ashton can argue more. He looks over at where Harry is mixing drinks for everyone and asks, “You locked the door on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harry hums, smirking as he shakes the mixer.

“Stop being petty.” Niall sighs, dropping his sunglasses down to cover his eyes. 

“Practical, not petty.” Harry chuckles. “Louis never takes off his shoes, and he tracks dirt through the house. Then you bitch the whole time you’re down on the floor scrubbing.”

“Well, you enjoy staring at my arse when I’m doing it, so I still don’t see why you had to keep the door locked.” Niall says, shaking his head.

“Maybe I just like reminding them that they don’t have keys anymore, and therefore can’t continue to just walk in on the two of us whenever they please.” Harry shrugs. “Because our friends have seen the two of us in the throes of it more than enough times.”

Niall can’t help but smile at that, the way Harry says ‘our’. Because it took a long time for him to warm up to most of the group. It took months for him to forgive Louis for helping Niall try to fall out of love with him, and it took almost a year for him to start getting along with Luke, because he could never tell when the younger lad was kidding and when he was genuinely upset about something. Liam and Harry came to a tentative understanding about Liam revealing Harry’s past a few months after Niall and he started dating, but it took a while longer for them to realize how much they actually enjoyed each other’s company, considering themselves the sane ones in the group. Bressie is pretty much the only one Harry liked right from the beginning.

And Ashton- Niall is still working on that. Harry still has jealousy issues, and Ashton is still more than a bit overprotective, and they’re at each other’s throats more often than not, leaving Niall to step in between them and bring them both back down to a rational mindset.

But, on the flip-side of that, it took Niall almost two years to win Gemma over. He doesn’t resent her for her long hesitation, for the way she was so fierce in protecting Harry. She’s all he had before he came into Niall’s little extended family, his best friend and sister and guardian all rolled up into one. She may have hated Niall, but Niall has always loved her for how she stands by Harry’s side, no matter what.

That said, he could have done without the handful of slaps she’s burned into his cheeks over the years.

“If you weren’t such a sex addict, it wouldn’t be a problem.” Niall giggles, settling back against his lounger.

“You say that like I don’t have you begging me for it, half the time.” Harry scoffs. “Like you didn’t make me pull over on the side of the road so I could fuck you in the Range Rover yesterday when I was bringing you home from the airport.”

“Car sex is definitely in the top five best kinds of sex.” a familiar voice hums over the crunch of gravel as several pairs of feet start bringing their owners around the corner of the cottage. “Not quite as good as angry sex, but definitely better than sex on public transit. More room, ironically.”

“I’m sure that’s going to be a full chapter in your next book, Tommo.” Niall snorts.

“Hey-” Louis says incredulously, before his face turns thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. Like- Exploring the psychological benefits of an active sex life, and different kinds of sex. Let me write that down.”

“If this comes back to bite me in the arse, I’m going to get you back.” Liam huffs, glaring over at Niall.

“Tommo, you should do a chapter on arse biting.” Niall grins.

“A proper wellspring of ideas you are.” Louis hums, checking his hip into Niall’s shoulder appreciatively as he scribbles away on his tablet and heads for the bar Harry is hosting from.

“Where are the puppies?” Luke asks, looking around with wide eyes as he tugs on the hem of his shirt. “Which one is ours?”

“The two with the gold collars, Johnny and JL are ours.” Niall tells him, pointing out where Conan is roaming around with his pack of pups behind him. “And then Proud Mary and Elvis, the two in the green collars are for the center. You guys are here first, so you can pick between Mary Lou Brown and San Antonio Rose. They have the red and pink collars on, respectively.”

“You gave two of them the name ‘Mary’?” Ashton snorts, dropping onto Niall’s lounger when he budges up to make room.

“I didn’t name any of them.” Niall says, shaking his head. “Harry did, and he had a theme.”

“I wonder what could have been on his mind with a name like ‘Mary’.” Ashton grins. “You ready for it? The big day? Only a few months away, now.”

Harry has already told Gemma, simply because he needed someone closer than Argentina to talk about the wedding with, so Niall puts his left hand on Ashton’s knee and taps his ring finger a few times.

“Oh, you fucker.” Ashton breathes out.

“We’re telling people today, so keep your mouth shut until we make the announcement, alright?” Niall requests quietly, so as not to be overheard.

“You’re paying me back for the money I spent on my best man tux.” Ashton hums, burying his face in Niall’s neck. “And you’re making a donation to my wedding, for making me wait so long to propose to Luke so that we didn’t steal your thunder.”

“Liam and Louis literally got married at the courthouse a month after we got engaged.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes. “We had no thunder left to be stolen. And you’re worth a lot more than I am, rock star.”

“Stop calling me that.” Ashton sighs, pinching Niall’s hip. “I’m not a musician. Just a producer and song writer.”

“You wrote half an album that was nominated for four Grammies, and won two.” Niall argues. “You’re a musician.”

“Just- Didn’t turn out the way I pictured in my head when I was younger, I guess.” Ashton mumbles out, shrugging lightly.

“Maybe you’re not selling out stadiums, but I think things have turned out alright for you.” Niall says gently.

“Yeah.” Ashton says with a soft smile, watching Luke chase around the herd of puppies, and then get tackled to the ground by Conan so that they can all turn against him. “I think they did too.”

“I want this one!” Luke shouts, holding up the puppy in the pink collar.

“Why am I not surprised he picked Rose?” Niall snorts. “She’s the prissiest one of the bunch. She won’t eat unless you feed her separately, she refuses to sleep without her own blanket, and she won’t do her business if you’re looking at her.”

“Guess I’ll just have to have two princesses around the house now.” Ashton says with a fond smile.

 

“Daddy!” Theo whines, stomping his foot. “She’s mine! Give her to me!”

“Nope.” Greg hums, rubbing his nose against Mary’s. “She’s too cute. I’m going to take her home with me, and leave you here with uncle Niall instead.”

“Don’t be stupid, daddy.” Theo huffs, slapping his hand against Greg’s hip. “Mam will yell at you.”

“You make sure to leave all her fur where it’s supposed to be.” Niall tells him, taking the puppy out of Greg’s hands and passing her off to Theo. “Play gently with her. She’s just a little baby.”

“Thanks, uncle Niall.” Theo says, flashing Niall a brilliant smile before he sets Mary down and runs off with her nipping at his heels.

“I thought you were trying to keep from getting attached.” Greg hums, nudging Niall with his shoulder. “Isn’t that like- Your area of expertise?”

“I’ve never actually been that good at it, as my husband can attest.” Niall snorts. “I tried to keep them mostly at a distance, but they’re really fucking cute, and they’re Conan’s babies, and I can’t actually just not love them or some- Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Husband?” Greg squawks, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stares at Niall. It makes everything in the garden slow to a stop. The conversation between Gemma and Bressie grinds to a halt, and Ashton and Luke collide with one another while chasing Rose, and Harry is the one to break the silence that seems to have almost completely coated the world around their home by dropping a glass on the ground.

“Niall!” Harry yells. “What the hell?”

“Fucking shite!” Niall hisses.

“We were supposed to tell them together.” Harry growls, sticking his foot out to stop Elvis from investigating the broken shards of glass while Liam rushes towards them with a broom and dustpan. Harry pays him no mind, eyes locked with Niall’s as he adds, “I swear, I’m going to divorce you for this crap.”

“So it’s not a joke?” Louis asks incredulously. “You two went and got married? When? How?”

“Remember two weeks back, when Harry went to New York with me for that conference?” Niall asks. “And we had Gemma stay here a couple extra days with the dogs? That’s because we eloped in Vegas.”

“How could you just do that when we’ve all been helping plan this bloody wedding for months?” Bressie huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

“It was our anniversary.” Niall says with a soft smile, taking Harry’s hand.

“Three years from the day we met.” Harry hums, pressing a kiss to Niall’s temple.

“Plus, this nerd wanted to be married by Elvis.” Niall snorts, patting Harry’s hip with his free hand.

“And this idiot husband of mine indulged me in that.” Harry hums. “It was cheesy and stupid.”

“And perfect.” Niall says gently, sliding his hand up and pulling Harry in by the jaw for a quick peck on the lips. “We couldn’t pass it up. It just suddenly occurred to us that that was the day, and we got on a red eye to Vegas and got married. Spent the next day in our hotel room, and then Harry came back here the day after that, and I went to Argentina. This is the first full day we’ve had together since then, and we wanted to tell you all in person, so that’s why we had you all come here before we head over to the center for the ceremony.”

“I can’t believe you just blurted it out like that.” Harry grumbles, banging his forehead against Niall’s.

“Sorry.” Niall says sheepishly. “Spent the whole time in Argentina telling anyone who would listen about my gorgeous, wonderful idiot of a husband. Just got used to saying it.”

And it’s true. It took Niall a long time after they finally got together to adjust to the term boyfriend. It felt heavy and unfamiliar and juvenile on his tongue. It didn’t feel like it fit properly for months, because Niall was always waiting for that term to have an ‘ex’ affixed to it when Harry finally realized he could do better.

And it wasn’t any easier when they got engaged to take that term from ‘boyfriend’ to ‘fiancé’. Niall carried the question around on his tongue for weeks until he finally blurted it out at Harry in a swell of affection while watching Harry play with Conan in the garden while taking a break from sanding the floors in the kitchen. And even though he was the one to ask, it took months for him to be able to say it properly.

But- Calling Harry his husband has never given him any trouble at all so far. Not for a minute.

“Does this mean that I don’t get to throw the bachelor party?” Louis pouts.

“That was never your job.” Niall says flatly, looking over at him. “It was Ashton’s. I told you that when I asked you to be co-best-men for me. You’d get strippers.”

“Well, duh!” Louis scoffs. “Dressed up like sexy golfers. Because I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t want golfing strippers!” Niall growls. “This is why Ashton was in charge!”

“Exactly.” Ashton smirks. “Because everyone knows golfing is never sexy. Footballer and rugger strippers were what I hired. Much sexier.”

“Why did I ever ask either of you to be my best man?” Niall sighs. “Bressie and Liam would have been much saner choices.”

“Hey, what about me?” Luke asks with a huff.

“You would absolutely upstage me. That’s why you weren’t in the wedding party at all.” Niall says firmly. “Couldn’t have you making me look like a troll with you standing next to me. And poor Greg is already at such a disadvantage against all of us, so that would have been cruel.”

“See, this is why I was on Harry’s side of the wedding party, and not yours.” Greg grumbles. “He’s so much nicer to me than you are.”

“Harry only asked you because he wanted to keep the heights pretty even for the photographs, and Bressie and Luke are too tall.” Niall snorts.

“Don’t tell him that!” Harry squawks, batting at Niall’s shoulder. “That makes me seem like such an arse!”

“I cannot believe that I put up with you people without drinking.” Greg scoffs, plopping down on the lounger nearest to him. “A true testament to my sobriety, you all are.”

“Um- Why wasn’t I considered?” Liam asks with a pout.

“Because you dragged Louis to the courthouse and got married a month after we announced our proposal, you thunder stealer.” Harry says, shooting a glare at a now very sheepish-looking Liam. 

Niall just looks over at Ashton and gives him a smirk before mouthing ‘I told you so.’

“So, now that it’s all out in the open, does that mean I can look forward to having a niece or nephew any time in the near future?” Gemma asks.

“God, no!” Niall rushes out, perhaps a bit more panicked than he meant to, given the looks everyone shoots him. Truth be told, the idea of kids terrifies him beyond all reason. It’s not something he ever sees in the cards for them. But he didn’t mean for it to be so harsh, so he adds, “No, we just- We have a lot on our plates at the moment. LiveWell and the new center and the puppies. A kid would just be too much that we don’t have the proper time for right now, you know? Besides- I’m officially your brother in law now, which kind of makes Theo your nephew.”

“Yeah, but that also means dealing with Greg, and nobody wants to do that.” Gemma hums.

“Mary! Sic ‘em!” Greg growls from the lounger. Mary doesn’t stop her chase of Theo, though, as he’s the only person still moving around the garden. In fact, all of the puppies are chasing him, and Conan is watching warily from beside Niall’s feet. He still hasn’t forgiven Theo for all the clumps of hair he’s lost over the years to those grabby fingers. “Useless thing, she is. I’m going to have to train her before I can get my revenge on you lot.”

“Given how well Theo listens to you, I’d say we don’t have much to worry about for a while.” Niall scoffs.

“Ah, but I’ll learn from my mistakes.” Greg grins. “Trying to get Theo to behave is a lost cause, but I know what works and what doesn’t now.”

“Well, if you figure it out, give me some tips.” Niall hums, turning to Harry. “I’ve got one with a humping problem that sorely needs fixing.”

 

“I cannot believe that you waited until the last minute to start getting ready.” Harry says with a soft smile, running his hands through Niall’s fringe to style it the way he likes. “The rest of us all had our kits on this whole time.”

“Yeah, well, you’re clumsy when you eat, and you’ve been in my lap all day, so I didn’t want my shirt getting ruined.” Niall snorts, patting at Harry’s hip. “I’m pretty sure James doesn’t have any in my size, and you get weirdly horny when I wear big shirts.”

“I get horny when you wear my shirts.” Harry says with a roll of his eyes.

“Everything gets you horny.” Niall hums.

“Like you actually mind that.” Harry grins. “You like my humping problem, and we both know it.”

“I’ll never tell.” Niall chuckles, fisting his hand in Harry’s collar and dragging him in for a kiss. “But I’m not going to say you’re wrong, either.”

“Do you really not want kids?” Harry asks softly against his lips. And- Jesus, Niall knew the question was coming, but he didn’t think it would be with eight of their friends and family downstairs, already waiting on them to come down so they can all head over to the grand opening ceremony.

“Harry-” Niall sighs.

“I won’t be mad if you don’t.” Harry whispers gently, cupping Niall’s cheeks in his hands. “I just want to know if it’s never going to happen for us. It’s going to be on my mind all day if you don’t just tell me now, and you know how I get when you let me stew on something for too long.”

“I think having a kid would be risky.” Niall admits. “With my leg, and my episodes- It just isn’t a good recipe for me to be a father.”

“You haven’t had an episode in over a year.” Harry points out.

“I’m not cured, Harry.” Niall breathes out. “I’ll never be cured, because there is no cure. I could always slip up. It could always come back, and- And I’m scared.”

“I think you’d be a good da.” Harry murmurs, pressing their foreheads together.

“Maybe someday.” Niall tells him. “It’s not like I’ve never thought about it. I’ve had lots of thoughts about it, actually. Because the idea of you with a baby makes my heart beat faster, and, even if I wasn’t a very good da, I know you’d be a great one. Just- Right now- I’d rather just be your husband. I’d rather let the past and the future stay where they belong, and just see where the present takes us.”

“I think I like that a lot.” Harry hums, pressing another quick peck to Niall’s lips. “You ready?”

“As long as I have you.” Niall nods.

“Caught you.” Harry giggles.

And, yeah, maybe one day Niall will feel differently about it. He’s learned never to say never when it comes to Harry, because his stupid, beautiful, perfect husband has a way of making the things that feel impossible come true. But, for right now, this is who they are, and Niall is more than happy with that.


End file.
